Season2;Episode8–UnderThemSkiesofBlue
UNKNOWNLOCATION–INT.EXTENDED-STAYMOTEL–NIGHT (LATER)
Cuethehauntingpulseof “The Beginning Is the End Is the Beginning”bySmashingPumpkins. It builds slowly low and menacing.
“Is it bright where you are, and have the people changed? Does it make you happy? You’re so strange…”
The room is dim. Cheap overhead light. One of those extended-stay motels with a stovetop and linoleum counters. Two adjoining rooms. We start in the bedroom, in a POV shot low to the ground.
A stack of comic books, a battered lunchbox, and a few action figures are strewn across a dingy carpet. This is a child’s room.
Thecamera lingers… just long enough for the voice to start.
VOICE (O.S.)
(muffled, commanding)
Weare done begging for power. Now we take it.
The POV begins to move forward creeping, curious. Through the bedroom door. Into the living space.
Westayin the shadows. We do NOT cut away. Thecamerais still in the child’s POV.
The voice gets louder.
Scratchy.Heavier. Like sandpaper over steel.
VOICE (O.S.)
This is just the beginning. You’ve all seen it. One push, and theyfall in line. Now we spread. City by city. Block by block. Day by day.
The living room is lit by a single flickering lamp. We see the back of a man tall, rigid, dressed in a blue button-down, blue slacks, and pulled over his head…..
adeep navyhood,smooth andseamless, likeit was stitched from ashadow. It hangs just loose enough to obscure all but the shape of a man beneath.
Hestands like a general. Onehand clenched. The otherpointingat a map on the table. Four or five men surround him some in cheap suits, others in biker jackets, one twitchy guy with tattoos crawling up his neck.
Weonlysee him from the back. But we’ve got a pretty good idea who he is.
VOICE (O.S.)
Webuild the foundation. From the dirt. From the rot. We rise. Together. But not as beggars. As owners.
MURMURS OFAGREEMENT. A nod here. A fist bump there.
Andstill…westayinthePOV.Watching.Unseen.Unnoticed.
Until…
A quiet voice.
BILLY (O.S.)
Dad?
His bodystiffens.
Hebegins to turn toward the camera slowly, powerfully, ominously.
Just as the front of the hood starts to come into view, a flicker of eyeholes catching the light
SMASH CUT TO:
INT.POLICESTATION–DETECTIVEMARCUS’S DESK–NIGHT
We’re now in a cluttered office lit byfluorescent hell. Stacks of paperwork. Coffee rings. A dying houseplant. DETECTIVE MARCUS is seated, dead-eyed, listening to the end of a voicemail on speaker.
UNKNOWN VOICE (V.O., filtered voicemail)
….ifyou’renotdeadalready,Lattimer,youwillbesoonenough…. [BEEP]
OFFICER MARCUS
(sippingcoffee,leaningagainstthedesk)
So Lattimer’s definitely alive then?
HERNANDEZ
Looksthat way.
MARCUS
You still don’t think thewife knows where he is?
HERNANDEZ
She’sthe one who brought us the phone. Without her, we wouldn’t even have this.
MARCUS
Come on, though. She goes from foreclosure to a second-floor office job at a bank owned by RichardMontgomery? Thesame guywhoseson woundupdeadthanksto Lattimer’s bikerpals? (beat)
NowMontgomery’sdead. Sois his wife.Soishis accountant AndChris Lattimer’s out here treating the tri-county area like it’s his playground.
HERNANDEZ
Not for long.
Heclicks themouse. An old photo ofChris appears on themonitor.Hedoesn’t even look like the same person we’ve come to know.
HERNANDEZ(CONT’D)
We’ve got themessage. We’ve got adescription. (sits back)
And if he shows his face again?
MARCUS
We’re on him.
HERNANDEZ (nods)
That’s if whoever he pissed off this time doesn’t get to him first.
INT.MONTGOMERYTRUSTBANK–SECONDFLOOR–LAURA’S OFFICE – MORNING
Amodest corneroffice unpacked boxes, afewhangingfilefolders,and onesmall framed photo of Billy, cropped just so you can’t see who else was in the shot.
LAURAis kneelingbya drawer, tryingto organize papers. BILLY sits quietlyin a chair near the desk, swinging his legs, arms crossed. He’s dressed nicely, but his face is a storm cloud.
MR. HENDERSON steps in the doorway. Warm smile. Conservative suit. The kind of bank managerwho probablykeeps granolabarsin his drawer forlongdays and says things like “I’m a firm believer in second chances.”
HENDERSON
Everythingalright in here?
LAURA (nods, stands up quickly)
Oh!Yes, I’m so sorryagain about bringinghim in. It’s just temporary.
HENDERSON
No apologies needed.We make room forfamilyhere.
He offers Billy a wave. Billy barely looks up.
HENDERSON (CONT’D)
How is he?
LAURA (stiffens slightly)
Hanginginthere. Imean... hemisseshis old routine.His room.His (beat)
We're gettingthere.
Hendersonsenses the edge and softens.
HENDERSON
Take your time unpacking. No rush on reports until next week.
Laurafollows him a few steps into the hallway. Theyspeak in lowered tones.
INT.BANKHALLWAY – CONTINUOUS
LAURA
Thank you again for... all of this. Thetrust, theopportunity Idon’t takeanyof it for granted. And I know there’s still... attention around everything that happened, but
HENDERSON
Laura.You’vebeennothingbutprofessional. (beat)
Andwhatever yourhusband’sinvolvedin…that’s his mess.Notyours.
She nods, appreciative but tense.
LAURA
Theythinkthey’llfindhimsoon. It’sjustamatter oftime. He smiles, pats her shoulder.
HENDERSON
Andwhentheydo,it’sbehind you. You’rebuildingsomethingbetternow.
He exits down the hall.
INT.LAURA’SOFFICE–MOMENTS LATER
Laura re-enters. Billyhasn’t moved. His arms are still crossed, lip sticking out.
LAURA
You okay?
BILLY (quiet)
Iwant General Savage.
LAURA (softly)
I’ll buy you a new one.
BILLY Iwant mine.
Laurastarts to respond, but catches herself. Billyturns his face away.
INT. WHITECREST MOTOR INN – LOBBY – EARLY AFTERNOON
The lobbyis still the same dump. Low lights. Faded posters for local diners. Cigarette burns on the counter. That same disinterested, balding clerk in a band t-shirt (TOOL this time) leans against the front desk, tuning a radio dial between static and a vaguely familiar country song about a bucket with a hole in it.
Thedoor swings open. A sharp DING from the mounted bell.
Enter JOHNNY CALLAS slick yellow suit, dark shades, snakeskin shoes. A gold tie pin. A louder-than-it-needs-to-be watch. He walks likehe owns the whole block. Smiles like he’s never been told no.
CLERK (squints) Need somethin’?
JOHNNY
Nah. I’m just here to surprise a buddy. Heard he was stayin’ here. Real low-key guy. Figured I’d pop in, say hello.
CLERK (flat) Thatright?
JOHNNY (grins)
Sure. Guy’s name is Lattimer.
The clerk taps some keys. Frowns.
CLERK
Never heard of ‘im.
Johnny doesn’t look surprised. He taps the counter once. Twice. Then slowly leans in.
JOHNNY
No?Huh.That’sodd. (pause) Mind if Iwait?
CLERK (deadpan)
Yeah.Actually. Ido.
JOHNNY (shrugs, friendly)
Well, I’d like it alot better if you werehelpful. Y’know, digdeep. Think hard. Mybuddy…he’s definitely here.
CLERK
Look man, Idon’t ask names. Idon’t remember faces. Less of a headache that way.
Johnnychuckles. Takes offhis sunglasses, just to polish them slowlywith a handkerchief. The moment is quiet. Too quiet.
JOHNNY
Funnyyoumentionheads.
The clerk glances up.
JOHNNY (CONT’D)
Folks back home like to call me Headman.
CLERK (uneasy)
...What the hell’s that supposed to mean?
Johnny lifts the edge of his jacket… just enough for the clerk to see the golden handle of a pistol gleaming beneath the fabric.
JOHNNY
Twothings,actually. (smiles, razor thin)
Sometimestaking…sometimesgiving…. (beat)
Either way, I like finishing what I start.
Johnnyadjusts his cufflinks with a chuckle..
JOHNNY (CONT’D)
So let’s trythis again…
Theclerk doesn’t answer, but he’s definitelyremembering now.
INT. MINDY’S HOUSE – KITCHEN – AFTERNOON
The light through the window is warm but fading. MINDY hangs up the kitchen phone, pressing her lips together with a frown as she sets it back in the cradle. She exhales hard, then glances toward the living room, where TOMMY is kneeling over a LEGO disaster zone.
MINDY (to herself, softly) She’sreallygonnastaythere.
Tommy looks up, curious.
TOMMY
Is Billystill comingtonight?
MINDY (sighs,movingtowardhim) No, bud. Not tonight.
TOMMY Why?
MINDY
Because... his mom thinks it’s timetheystart beingback in their own house again. Just the two of them.
Tommyfrowns, shuffling one of his LEGO people under the coffee table.
TOMMY
But... his dad’s still out there, right?
Mindystops,crouchingdowntoeyelevel.
MINDY Yeah. He is.
TOMMY
Idon’t like him.
MINDY
Idon’t either.
Shebrushes some hair out of Tommy’s face.
MINDY(CONT’D)
But everything’s gonnabeokay. Billy’s safe. His mom’s smart. Andthere arealot ofpeople out there making sure nothing bad happens again.
Tommystill looks unsure, but he nods.
MINDY(CONT’D)
Now go wash up, lunch’s almost ready.
Tommyshufflesoff.Mindywatches him go,thenleans against thecounter. Thesmile fades. That last sentence wasn’t a promise. It was a hope.
INT. MOTEL ROOM – LATE AFTERNOON
The motel room is a wreck. The bedspread is tossed, pillows on the floor. A chair has been knocked over. One of the lampshades sits lopsided, casting long shadows across the dingy carpet. Thedeskdrawers are yankedopen.Tornenvelopes,bankprintouts,andmanilafolders are strewn across the bed.
JOHNNYCALLAS dressedsharpbutloose,shirtsleevesrolledup iscrouched near the bed, sorting through papers with one hand, sipping from a paper cup of motel coffee with the other.
He chuckles under his breath.
JOHNNY (smirking)
Well now... look at you.
Loose papers fan out beneath an overturned briefcase. Amid themess, apage catches the light cleaner, glossier. Johnny picks it up.
Centered at the top is a corporate logo: two bold red E’s, mirrored back-to-back, their spines fused into a symmetrical shape that almost resembles an hourglass or a butterfly wing clean lines, sharp symmetry, slick menace.
Aboveand below the emblem, the words:
EXTENSIVE ENTERPRISES
Johnnychuckles. Low. Dark.
JOHNNY (CONT'D)
Didn’t realize this snake had gotten this deep in the garden...
Hetossesthepaperonto the mattress andstands,stretchingwith alittlegrunt. Glances toward the bathroom.
INT. MOTEL BATHROOM – CONTINUOUS
Thedoorcreaks open. Johnnyenters and unzips, sighingas he relieves himself. Runningwater follows. He rinses his hands slowly, looks at himself in the cracked mirror.
Behind him the sound of a click.
Apistol.
Johnny freezes.
Wepanslowlyto the doorway. CHRIS stands in the shadows, pistol raised, bandage still on his face, hair a mess, eyes cold.
INT.MOTELBATHROOM–CONTINUOUS
JOHNNY (smirking, calm)
Isuppose you want me to back awayfrom the sink?
CHRIS
No. Get on your knees.
Johnny turns his head slightly, grinning like he’s heard this before.
JOHNNY
You’refull’asurprises,aren’t you?
He begins to lower himself SLAM!
Chrislunges,drivingJohnny’s head into the porcelain sink.Johnnycrashes to thefloor, groaning. He scrambles, dazed, toward the tub.
Chris doesn’t hesitate. The gun is back up.
Johnny looks up from the tile blood in his mouth, grin still stubborn.
JOHNNY (chuckling)
Okay.Okay. Iknew you wereslippery. Youdon’t steal from me,call yourself me, and cash out a few accounts without having some hustle in you.
Chris says nothing. Gun steady.
JOHNNY
But you’re gonna need that hustle. You’re gonna need to stayquick. Because you have no idea who you’re stealing from. No idea what you’ve gotten involved in.
CHRIS
No. They don’t knowwho they’redealingwith.
Johnny lets out a dismissive chuckle.
JOHNNY
Oh,butthat’snottrue, Isit…. (beat)
Chris?
Chris freezes. The name hits him like a slap.
JOHNNY
Chris Lattimer. Husband of Laura. FatherofBilly. Both of‘em livingjust in atown just a few miles up the road. Springville, right?
Chrisdoesn’tspeak.Buthiseyesbetrayit.Thatflicker.Thatcrack.
Johnny sees it. Seizes it.
JOHNNY
Yeah.You’restartingtounderstand. Youopened Pandora’sbox. Andthey they don’t forget. They don’t stop. The Paolis’ll
BANG.
A clean, brutal shot.
Rightbetween theeyes. Johnnyslumps sideways. Dead.
Chris exhales once. Tight. Cold.
He moves fast riflingdrawers, yanking papers, gathering everythingof value into a bag. The motel room is still a wreck. But Chris moves like a bat out of hell. Checking out for good.
EXT. MOTEL PARKING LOT – MOMENTS LATER
Motel guests are already poking their heads out of their rooms, a few are gathered in a small circle. Confused chatter. “Sounded like a gunshot,” “Probablya car backfiring,” “Happened in the room two doors down from me!”
Chris doesn’t pause, doesn’t meet anyone’s gaze. He quicklyapproaches a silver hatchback. Parked under the buzzing glow of a sodium streetlamp.
He opens the driver’s door, slides into the seat.
Wires dangle beneath the dash… alreadyexposed and prepped.
With steadyfingers, Chris reconnects the leads.
The engine roars to life.
Inthepassengerseat,foldedneatly…
A blue ski mask.
Eyeholes only. No mouth. No logos. Just cold anonymity.
Chris stares at it.
His hand drifts to his cheek. He peels awaythe bandage, revealingthe jagged, healing cut. In the rearview mirror, his eyes narrow.
Hepicks up themask.
And puts it on.
EXT. STREET – CONTINUOUS
Thehatchback pulls awayfromthemotel.
The night swallows it.
CUT TO:
INT. MINDY’S LIVING ROOM – EARLY EVENING
TVlightflickersagainst thewalls.Onscreen: Michael Keaton’s Batman grins as he straps a bomb to a thug and tosses him down a manhole.
MINDY is curled up on the couch with CAL, trying to focus. There’s a half-finished bottle of wine on the coffee table. Cal reaches for her hand. She lets him hold it, but her mind’s elsewhere.
CAL
Stillthinkingabout her?
MINDY
She’salone.That psycho walked right into herhouseand just… talked to her. Like it was normal. Like he had every right.
CAL
She’snot reallyalonethough. You’reall overthis. You’vedonemorethan anyone would expect.
Mindy says nothing. SCREAM.
Both of them bolt upright.
TOMMY (O.S.)
HE’S HERE!! MOMMY, HE’S HERE!!
Theysprintforthehallway. Cal’s astep behind. Mindyreaches Tommy’s doorfirst halfopen. Darkness behind it. She pushes it open
INT.TOMMY’S BEDROOM – CONTINUOUS
TOMMYis in bed, sheets clutched to his chest, eyes wild with terror.
TOMMY
MOMMY, WATCH OUT!!
WHACK!
CHRIS comes out ofthe shadows behind thedoor and cracks Mindyin the back of thehead with his pistol. She crumples to the floor. Tommy screams.
CALcharges through the doorwayand slams into Chris, tacklinghim totheground. They grapple, fists flying.
CRACK!
SMACK!
Cal lands apunch that bounces Chris offthe wall.
But then BANG. Everything freezes.
CALstumblesback.His shirt blooms red.Heslumps against thewall, eyes widein disbelief, then down. Still alive. For now.
Tommywhimpers. Mindy SCREAMS.
MINDY (crawlingto Cal)
Yousonofabitch.You shot him.
Chris straightens, breath ragged.
CHRIS Iknow. (beat) Where’s myson?
MINDY
Youmiserablepieceofshit!Youthink that cheap mask makes you scary? Youthink
you’re powerful?
Chris twitches.
MINDY(CONT’D)
You’renot aman. You’re a virus Everything you touch you rot.
Chris takes a menacing step towards Mindy.
TOMMY (crying, shrieking) LEAVE HER ALONE!!!
Tommylunges tinyfistsslammingagainstChris’sleg.
Chris doesn’t yell. Doesn’t flinch. SLAP.
Hesends Tommy flying into the dresser. The boycrumples, sobbing.
Mindyscreams draggingherselftoTommy.Cal’sbarelybreathing. It’scarnage.
Chris walks away.
EXT.NEIGHBORHOODSTREET–NIGHT
The silver hatchback waits at the curb.
Chris strides toward it fasternow. Controlled. Measured.
He opens the driver’s door and slides in without hesitation.
For a moment, he gazes as his masked reflection in the rearview… his eyes momentarily betraying him and offering a glimmer of the man who was Chris Lattimer.
But only a glimmer.
Hisglovedhands gripthewheel.
He puts the car in gear.
EXT.STREET– CONTINUOUS
Thehatchback peels off into the night.
Wehold on the street. Sirens in the far, far distance.
EXT. SUBURBAN STREET – NEAR LATTIMER HOUSE – EARLY EVENING
Agraysedan idles afew houses down.Engine humminglow. Inside, two mensit intense silence.
VIC mid-40s,lean,leather jacket zippedhalfway, eyes sunkenlikeaman who’sbeensleeping in his car for three days. Behind the wheel.
BOONE late30s,bulkier, neck tattoo half-hidden underhis collar, chewingthe edge of a plastic coffee stirrer. He’s twitchy. Not nervous. Just impatient. They both watch the Lattimer house.
BOONE
That’sthe third timewe’vecircled. We’re gonna burnthe wholedamn block ifwekeep dragging this out.
VIC
Cops arewatchingit. You see the car uptheblock? Unmarked. But parked in thesame spot since noon.
BOONE (scoffs)
Great. They’re after the same guywe are.
VIC
Theydon’thaveourorders.
BOONE (shifting)
Iwas reallyhoping it wouldn’t come to this.
VIC What?
BOONE
Kids,man.Lasttimewas bad.Girlwouldn’tstop yellingforhermom. (tight jaw) Just stuck with me, you know?
VIC (flat) Shutup.
BOONE
I’m just saying…
VIC
Youthinkweworkforthegoddamn Salvation Army? This guygot in the wayof business. That makes his kid collateral.
BOONE
Yeah, but not with the
FLASHING LIGHTS.
TAPTAP TAP on the window. Theyfreeze.
EXT. STREET – CONTINUOUS
DETECTIVE MARCUS leans down at the driver’s side window. OFFICERHERNANDEZ hangsjustbehind,armscrossed,badgevisible,tensionbakedinto his every movement.
MARCUS
Evening,fellas. Can’thelp but notice you’vetaken asudden interest inaquietlittle neighborhood. Any particular reason you’ve driven by this house three times?
VIC (grinning)
Just lost. GPS sucks out here.
HERNANDEZ
License and registration.
BOONE
We’re doing this?
MARCUS
‘Fraid so. Step out of the vehicle.
Vicsighs.Booneswearsunderhisbreath.
Then A second car pulls in.
Black.Sleeker.Twomore guys climb out. Oneadjusts awatchthatprobablycost morethan Marcus’s paycheck. They walk up slowly. Confident. Too confident.
GUY#3
Is there a reason you’re hassling our associates, officers? We just stopped for coffee.
HERNANDEZ (realquiet)
Marcus...
MARCUS
Isee ‘em.
It’sastandoffnow.
Andno one notices the silver hatchback rolling down the street. Noheadlights. No noise. Just a shadow movingtoward the Lattimer driveway.
CUT
TO
INT. LATTIMER HOUSE – LIVINGROOM – EARLY EVENING
LAURAandBILLY siton thefloor, finishingapuzzle.Softmusicplays. A candle burns. The storm outside cops, gangsters, a killer father does not exist in here.
On the table beside them: a freshlyrepaired General Savage figure, standing tall.
BILLY (quietlyproud) You fixed him.
LAURA Itold you Iwould.
BILLY
Ididn’t want anotherone. That one’s special.
Laura watches him.
LAURA
Because yourdaddygaveitto you?
Billylooks away. Silent. Ashamed.
LAURA
It’snot yourfault,sweetheart.
Billy’s eyes well up.
LAURA(CONT’D)
We’lltalkabout yourdaddy. But nottonight. (softly) Go brush yourteeth andgettobed,okay?
Billy nods and heads upstairs.
Laura gathers thepuzzlepieces. Shedoesn’tseeit yet the faint shadowmovingat thetop ofthe stairs.
Then BILLY SCREAMS.
THUDTHUD THUD. His feet pound back down the stairs.
LAURA
Billy?!
She runs to the base of the staircase just in time to see:
CHRIS,in the blue ski mask, stepping out of the hallwaybehind Billy. Silent. Ghostly.
LAURA(CONT’D)
Billy. Come to me. Right now. Right this instant.
Billyfreezes between them.
Hismotherat thebottom ofthestairs.
His father, masked, at the top.
LAURA(CONT’D)
Chris. Chris you’re scaring him.
Chris says nothing. Hepulls offthemask.
Billy’s eyes widen.
BILLY
Daddy?
Heleaps into Chris’s arms.
LAURA (screaming)
NO! Billy, no! Chris, please!
Chris descends the stairs slowly, Billyin his arms, beaming.
LAURA(CONT’D)
You’retakinghimfrom me.You’retakinghimfrom his home!
Chris doesn’t even look at her.
She reaches for Billy desperate, clawing, trembling.
Chris finally reacts.
He jerks awayfrom her violently elbowingpast, sending Laura crashing to the floor. She hits the tile hard with a sickening thud, arms flailing toward Billy.
Billyreaches for her as he’s carried away, and in doingso… GENERAL SAVAGE slips from his hand.
The figure smacks the tile.
Crack.
The torso shatters
Lauracurlsintoherself,sobbing.Herworldcrumblingagain.Christurnsto her.
CHRIS
Youdon’twantustobetogether. But Ido. (beat)
This is for him For both of us.
Heturns toward the front door.
LAURA (weak,sobbing)
Chris…please...
Shefumblesforherphone,dialing911withshakinghands.
Chris reaches the door. Billyin his arms.
Hepulls the mask back on.
BILLY (uneasy)
Idon’t like it...
CHRIS
It’sonly scary to the people who’d tryto take you from me.
He opens the door. Laura scrambles to her feet… too late.
LAURA CHRIS PLEASE!!
EXT. LATTIMER HOUSE – STREET – CONTINUOUS EVERYTHINGSLOWS.
Likeadreamwarpingintonightmare.
Like sinking under dark water.
Tom Petty’s "Into the Great Wide Open" creeps in guitars drifting, vocals haunting. A bizarre contrast to what’s unfolding before our eyes.
Chris steps out onto the porch. Billyin his arms.
GUNS RAISE.
VOICESYELL.
COP 1 THAT’S HIM!
COP 2
WAIT! IS IT? IS THAT HIM?!
BANG.
BANGBANG.
"Into the great wide open..."
Gunfire explodes from everydirection. A gangster drops in the street. A cop fires blindly.
DETECTIVE MARCUS (shoulder hit) AHHHSHIT!
OFFICER HERNANDEZ (ducking behind cruiser) Get down! GET DOWN!
Chris bolts to the silver hatchback, covering Billy.
"Under them skies of blue..."
LAURA bursts out of the house. Screaming. Terrified.
LAURA BIIIIIIIIILLLLLLLYYYYY!!
She runs after them. POP.
A straybullet rips through her shoulder. Shespins. Drops. Cries out in pain, betrayal, disbelief. Billy sees it happen.
BILLY MOMMY!!!
Chrisgivesheraglance. No sympathy
Just a flash of cold, clinical detachment in his eyes.
"Out in the great wide open..."
Bulletskeepflying.Cops.Gangsters.
Shouts and sirens collide.
ChrisYANKSopenthecardoor.
Billy’s still yelling.
CHRIS Get in.
HeTHROWS Billyinto the passenger seat. Not gentle.
The door SLAMS.
"A rebel without a clue..."
Chris slips into the driver’s seat.
Laura, on the pavement, reachingweakly.
Billy, pressed against the window, crying.
The hatchback PEELS out into the night, tires SCREAMING.
Thescreen FADES TO BLACK with Tom Petty’s vocals echoing.
SMASH CUT TO:
INT. LUXURY OFFICE – NIGHT
Rich wood paneling. Chrome accents. A skyline outside the window that looks like money.
At theback ofthe room an open walk-incloset fit forroyalty. Dozens of suits hanglike soldiers. Shoes and ties arranged by color and cut. Precise. Pristine.
Weseeaman, onlyfrom the shoulders down, buttoningthe final clasp of a deep red tie. Immaculate dress shirt. Sleek black slacks. Movements exact.
Standingdirectlyinfront ofhim… anotherman,shoulders down,doingthe exact same thing. Matching suit. Matching tie. Same cufflinks. Same posture. Not a reflection. Not a mirror.
A knock at the office door.
BOTH MEN (inunison) Come in.
The door opens.
A young, clean-cut aide steps in. Blond hair. Blue eyes. Polished.
AIDE
Apologies,sirs.But you’llwanttoknow…theyfoundJohnnyCallas'sbody.
A pause.
One of the men lifts his chin slightly.
FIRST MAN That’s most...
SECOND MAN ...unfortunate. Theyturn.
Identical.Perfectlypoised. Tomax and Xamot.
The Paoli Twins.
SLAM-CUTTOBLACK.
END OF EPISODE.
END OF SEASON