domino_script.htm

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                     "Domino Dare"

                           by

                      Don Cortier



                                               P.O. Box 2901
                                               South Bend, IN 46680



Copyright notice.

Cut to a black screen; we hear zippers and rustling on the
soundtrack, and see brief flashes of our heroine, Domino
Dare, dressing for a Halloween party. She'll be Little Red
Riding Hood tonight. She's a little soused: Bottles rest
atop her dresser. Shiny pink boots glide onto delicate
ballerina legs. She attaches fake eyelashes, a wig....

Main title (deep pink on black): DOMINO DARE

EXT.   BROODING, SWIRLING CLOUDS

Gray snow-clouds weigh heavily beneath partial credits.

Credits out of the way, bas-relief faces now emerge from
these clouds, speaking to us in voices too distorted and
thunderous to be intelligible but seeming to say perfectly
mundane things like, "See you at the party tonight" and "Are
you really going to wear that?" (These actors, lit from
beneath and performing without make-up [the under-lighting
should be creepy enough], will later appear as our villains.)

EXT.   HIGHWAY

Tilt down to Domino, trying to navigate a lonely highway at
either dusk or dawn, and just barely staying awake/sober.
She squints through fog, seeing neither landmarks nor signage.

                         DOMINO
            Where the hell am I?

Her gas-gauge reading low, Domino makes a slight right onto
a country road. She soon passes a billboard for Dr. Terror's
Bloody Horror Terror Castle

EXT.  DR. TERROR'S BLOODY HORROR TERROR CASTLE

Domino treks up a hill to a house that could be home to
Norman Bates. She finds an exotic bird in a tree, its bright
presence along this barren Autumnal landscape a drop of blue
wax on a faded postcard.

A Gatekeeper in a deep-red shroud greets Domino at the door.

                         DOMINO
            Oh, thank God! I've been driving in
            circles for hours.

The Gatekeeper simply turns and wordlessly retreats into her
house.

                                                            2.


                         DOMINO
            Hello?
                   (to herself)
            Where's she going?
                   (to Gatekeeper)
            Hey, I'm not here for the tour. I
            need directions!

INT.   DR. TERROR'S BLOODY HORROR TERROR CASTLE

Domino follows this mute figure up a mossy stairway, her
thighs taut and sinewy beneath her pink silken tights.

They come to a room decorated with the usual Haunted House
trappings. Now the Gatekeeper, wearing a hands-free
microphone headset, turns to address Domino for the first
time; her voice, though it belongs to a small woman, is deep,
mechanical, ominous.

                         GATEKEEPER
            You have entered a zone beyond
            which there can never be a return.
            And by "return," I mean, "refund."

                         DOMINO
            Okay, now why do you have to use
            the microphone? Because you're
            standing right next to me. Just--
            talk to me like one adult to
            another. Please? I'm just here to
            get some directions.

The Gatekeeper removes her headset.

                         GATEKEEPER
                   (same deep voice)
            I said, "No refunds."

                         DOMINO
            Yeah. I got that.

                         GATEKEEPER
                   (motioning broadly)
            Stand on that X.

The X marks an obvious trapdoor, just off to the side of
Domino's feet.

                         DOMINO
            I'd rather not. Do you mind? I
            didn't come here for the ...

                                                            3.


                         GATEKEEPER
                   (stomping foot)
            You will now stand on the X! The
            Master commands it!

                         DOMINO
            Yeah. So you can dump me into the
            basement like a sack of dirty
            laundry, right?

                         GATEKEEPER
            The Master commands it! Stand on
            the X!

                         DOMINO
            Y'know, you're a little bossy for
            someone so tiny, and I don't care
            if this is your house!

                         GATEKEEPER
            This is the Master's house!
                   (pointing to a spot
                   behind Domino)
            See: He is behind you!

                         DOMINO
                   (turning, with a smirk)
            And behind me would be a brick ...

The Gatekeeper roughly shoves Domino right through that
brick wall, as surely as a diver punctures water's skin.

EXT.  OPEN FIELD

                         DOMINO
                   (finishing her sentence)
            ... wall.

Holy Rabbit-hole! After picking herself up, she discovers
that she now stands in the middle of an open Midwestern
landscape, this one encircled by an ominous treeline.
Dorothy is no longer in Kansas, folks.

Domino, shocked at her sudden surroundings, staggers.
Everything has changed, including her costume, which has
deepened to a bad-girl red. She also now slings a purse with
a red kerchief like a picnic basket's.

                                                            4.


                         DOMINO
            Where am I? Where the hell is my
            car?
                   (discovering she now
                   wears this lurid
                   variation on her
                   original costume)
            And where did ... this come from?
                   (noticing the purse)
            I.D. ...

But the zipper is stuck! She fights it.

                         DOMINO
            Who am I here? C'mon.

A Drifter drifts in, seemingly from nowhere.

                         DRIFTER
            Stuck?

                         DOMINO
            Huh?

                         DRIFTER
            I said, "Are you stuck?" Because no
            one wants to be sticky, right?

                         DOMINO
            Do you know where my car is? It
            wouldn't take much to get unstuck
            if I had my car. It's a tan Toyota.
            A sedan. You seen it?

                         DRIFTER
                   (gesturing to purse)
            No, but I can help you with that,
            alright.

                         DOMINO
            I bet you could.

                         DRIFTER
            You don't trust me? Oh, my God! You
            think I'm a purse snatcher or
            something! But I'm not. I know a
            trick. I could get that zipper for you.

                         DOMINO
            Considering that I don't even know
            where or who I am, should I be so
            trusting? Would you?

                                                            5.


                         DRIFTER
            In times like these, even smart
            women sometimes seek the company of
            strangers.

He moves toward Domino slightly, as she likewise retreats.

                         DRIFTER
            Aw, come on. You may be Little Red
            Riding Hood, lady, but I'm no Big
            Bad Wolf, am I? I just want to help
            you with your purse. Just to unzip
            it, not to take it. I'm real good
            with zippers.
                   (winking)
            I'm not going to snatch your picnic
            basket, little girl. Lighten up.

                         DOMINO
            I can get it myself.

                         DRIFTER
            You'd have gotten it already.

Domino considers this logic.

                         DOMINO
              Well, okay, but ...

The Drifter snatches it from her trusting hands, and turning
sharply, sprints the open field, running up and over a hill.
Domino merely watches, then turns to regard the camera with
a double take. Who knew this was a high-crime area?

EXT.   HIGHWAY

More alone now than ever, Domino heads for the highway;
perhaps she can hitch-hike?

Domino stumbles along the side of the road, her boots a
seemingly poor fit. Before long, however, a van arrives. At
the wheel is a respectable-looking father figure. His name
is Roadkiller.

                         ROADKILLER
            Good evening. Need a ride?

Domino considers this silently.

                         ROADKILLER
            I said, "Do you want a ride?"

                         DOMINO
            Will you take me home?

                                                            6.


                         ROADKILLER
            Sure. Whatever you say, Kid.

Domino gets in, though his hungry eyes move up and down her
body.

INT.   ROADKILLER'S VAN

                         ROADKILLER
            So, who are you supposed to be
            tonight? Little Red Riding Hood? Or
            Little Bo Peep? Because I never
            could tell the difference between
            the two
                   (beat)
            I like your costume, though. So how
            far do you want to go?

                         DOMINO
            I'm not sure.

                         ROADKILLER
            Well, then, how far are you willing
            to go?

                         DOMINO
            I don't understand.

                         ROADKILLER
            Hey, are you working tonight, or
            what? You weren't really just
            looking for a ride, were you?
            What's your name?

                         DOMINO
            I don't know.

                         ROADKILLER
            You don't know much then, do you?
            Okay. Well, make one up, then. Make
            a name up. What should I call you?

Receiving no answer, he pulls onto the soft shoulder, parks.

                         ROADKILLER
            Look. Are you a cop? Because if you
            are, you have to tell me.

                         DOMINO
            I'm sorry, Mister. I just don't
            know who I am anymore or ... where
            I am. But I'm pretty sure I'm not a
            cop.

                                                            7.


                         ROADKILLER
            Yeah, well, if you were, it'd be
            entrapment by now. Because cops
            don't accept rides from well-
            meaning strangers. Do you know what
            I mean?

                         DOMINO
                   (after a long pause)
            No.

                         ROADKILLER
            I'm going to have to ask that you
            put on your seatbelt, Princess.
            Just for safekeeping.

Roadkiller suddenly straps her tight to her seat with the belt.

                         ROADKILLER
            Tight enough for ya? I had that
            installed special.

Domino squirms and struggles against her bonds. She hadn't
anticipated this!

Roadkiller returns to the road, and they travel in silence
for a moment, past a blank road sign.

                         DOMINO
            Where are we going?

                         ROADKILLER
            To see my brother.

                         DOMINO
            Who's your brother?

                         ROADKILLER
            Stressinger.

A scary chord segues to yet more silence, as moonlight,
through the window, dances across their faces.

                         ROADKILLER
            Poor little girl! You really have
            no idea who I am, do you? I'm just
            another dirty old man in a dirty
            old van, right?

                         DOMINO
            Should I know you?

                                                            8.


                         ROADKILLER
            Uh huh. I think you should. If you
            watch the news, you should. I'm
            kind of an important person in
            these parts. Don't you watch the
            news? Ah, what the hell's the
            difference. I wanna show you something.

He removes a fake moustache, a toupee ...

                         ROADKILLER
            How about now? Is my face ringing a
            bell or what? You know, never mind
            that bell; you ought to be hearing
            a fire alarm by now!

                         DOMINO
            I have no idea who you are. Why
            should I?

                         ROADKILLER
            Because of this.
                   (holding up a police
                   sketch, helpfully
                   labeled "Roadkiller")
            You seein' a resemblance now?

                         DOMINO
            Why don't you just get over yourself?

                         ROADKILLER
            Oh, my my my!
                   (shaking head)
            You're too pretty to be a cop, too
            clean to be a hooker, too dumb to
            live very long. Yeah, I'm the
            Roadkiller. Cleanin' up the streets,
            one gal at a time.

Silence from Domino. Does he think she's a hooker?!

                         ROADKILLER
            Hope that's not too snug. I mean
            smug. I hope that's not too smug.

                         DOMINO
            What are you going to do to me?

                                                            9.


                         ROADKILLER
            You really don't read the news, do
            you? Well, let's see. I never want
            to repeat myself, but I guess I
            could entertain you with my
            previous success stories. The cops
            found my last victim in three
            counties. Most of her. And before
            that? Do you know anything about
            power tools?

Domino gives him a blank look.

                         ROADKILLER
            Yeah, well what do you know about
            anything? Anyway, I just got this
            brand-new 10" mitre saw--it out-
            performs and replaces conventional
            saws and choppers. And it's fast: I
            can measure and cut an average
            window frame in less than five
            minutes. It will be just one stop
            along your tour of my doll factory.
                   (producing a small
                   wooden chest)
            A tour that ends with this ...

With his thumb, Roadkiller pops open its lid. Domino's eyes
grow wide with horror at whatever's inside.

EXT.   HIGHWAY

A big truck passes them in the other lane.

INT.   ROADKILLER'S VAN

                         ROADKILLER
             Hold on a minute.

He retrieves a handheld C.B. from his glove box, and points
it out his window at the passing truck. He rapidly clicks
the transmit button a few times. We'll meet the truck driver
shortly; his name is Matt.

                         ROADKILLER
            Hey there, Good Buddy!

                         MATT (OS)
            10-4, Good Buddy!

                         ROADKILLER
            Looking for some company?

                                                           10.


                         DOMINO
            Help!

                         MATT (OS)
            Sounds like you got a live one!

Roadkiller hastily returns the C.B. to the glove box.

                         ROADKILLER
            Nice try.
                   (smirking to himself)
            That's to fool with the cops and
            all those dumb-ass truckers. Three
            clicks means a girl like you is
            looking for company. "Commercial
            company." Yeah, well, you wound up
            with company tonight, alright.

                         DOMINO
            The police are going to be looking
            for me! I'm not just some street ...

                         ROADKILLER
            Oh, sure, they'll be looking for
            you. With a fine-tooth comb, on
            their knees. Across three counties.
            Ha ha!

A spectral convenience store floats into view; behind it
squats a truck lot. The store's sign advertises a sale on
pastry.

                         ROADKILLER
            So what do you say to a nice iced
            chocolate long-john. You know, like
            truckers eat. My treat!

                         DOMINO
            I'm not hungry.

                         ROADKILLER
            Yeah, well, ain't that a bitch,
            because I am! And I've got an
            insatiable sweet tooth.

He pulls into the parking lot, steers his van to the back by
a dumpster.

                         ROADKILLER
            And now you're going to get a
            lungful of something really sweet!
                   (chloroforms her)
            Sweet dreams, Princess.

                                                           11.


He regards her in the pale light. Her body is shapely and
succulent in her wet-red leotard beneath his gaze.

                         ROADKILLER
            So pretty in pink! Little Red
            Riding Hood's now a Sleeping Beauty ...

He leaves. Moments later, Domino exhales, cautiously opens
an eye, then the other. She wriggles out of the seatbelt
with great difficulty and exits his van, running awkwardly
in unfamiliar boots.

EXT.  TRUCK LOT

Domino furtively makes her way to the adjacent truck lot and
runs a gantlet of horny truckers, who cast their headlights
upon her as she passes by.

                         TRUCKER VOICE (OS)
            Looks like we got us a lot lizard.

                         TRUCKER VOICE 2 (OS)
            I normally turn up my nose at a
            pavement princess, but this one's a
            real doll!

                         TRUCKER VOICE 3 (OS)
            Dibs! You other guys can take
            seconds and thirds.

                         TRUCKER VOICE 2 (OS)
            May the best man win, Good Buddy.

Domino is a babe in these woods, however, and oblivious to
their frantic, horny signals, she ignores them.

She approaches a darkened strip club for possible sanctuary,
but is intercepted by a lone cowboy with a kind Midwestern
face, who appears out of the darkness as stealthily as the
Drifter.

                         MATT
            You lost, Honey?

                         DOMINO
            I'm trying to get home. I want to
            go home.

                                                           12.


                         MATT
            Well, you're in luck, then, because
            that's just where I'm goin'.
                   (long pause, as he
                   gives her the once-
                   over, three times)
            You a cop?

                         DOMINO
            Goddamnit! Why does everyone keep
            asking me that?! Are you a cop?

                         MATT
            Yes. Yes, I am. I'm a cop. Who
            drives a truck. And helps out
            pretty little things who find
            themselves out of place in the
            worst sort of way. Kind of like a
            preacher shepherds wayward women,
            know what I mean?

Domino is dubious.

                         MATT
            Okay, so maybe I ain't a cop. But I
            am a gentleman.

Matt abruptly stays Domino with a gallant hand.

                         MATT
            Whoah, Nelly! Look out for this mud
            puddle.

He rips off her hooded cape, not so gallantly stripping her
down to her leotard in the process.

                         DOMINO
            What are you doing?!

                         MATT
            A gentleman would never allow a
            pretty pair of boots like these to
            get dirty.

Tilt down to reveal that Matt's referring to his own shit-
kickers. He gingerly places the cape across the mud puddle
(which instantly soaks the fabric), then lifts her like a
newlywed coveting his bride, his "pretty" trucker boots
stomping oblivious and ungrateful through the filthy water.

Matt carries Domino back down that same long line of big
trucks, as though they were in a white-trashier Officer and
a Gentleman. His fellow drivers catcall and flash their
lights, C.B.'ing each other with this latest gossip.

                                                           13.


It looks as though Domino's dream has taken a turn for the
better!

                         TRUCKER VOICE (OS)
            Who says miracles don't still
            happen, and would that guy shut the
            hell up?

                         TRUCKER VOICE 2 (OS)
            My eyes are actually welling up.
            And it's got nothing to do with
            this potent marijuana cigarette
            that I'm casually puffing despite
            stern regulations to the contrary.

Domino regards Matt, swooning in his manly grip.

                         DOMINO
            This is nice. These boots are so tight!

                         MATT
            They don't call us the knights of
            the road for nothin', lady.

                         DOMINO
            Well, chivalry is not dead!

Her head falls into his shoulder, eyelids flickering
sleepily ...

INT.  TRUCK CAB/TRAILER

A clumsy Batman-esque spin transition reveals that Domino
has been tied up in the back, like just so much cargo! Pink
sequined straps lash her wrists and ankles to the trailer's
metal walls; Matt drives, C.B. transmitter in hand.

                         MATT
            How you all doin' back there, Pink
            Lady?

                         DOMINO
                   (looking in vain for
                   a mic, then giving up)
            I thought you said you were a cop!

                         MATT
            Well, I copped you, didn't I?!

                         DOMINO
            You really know how to sweep a girl
            off her feet!

                                                           14.


                         MATT
            Now, don't you worry your pretty
            little head none. You're in
            perfectly good hands.
                   (beat)
            Domino.

                         DOMINO
            What did you call me?

                         MATT
            That's your name, ain't it? Domino.
            I seen your show.

                         DOMINO
            I'm sure I have no idea what you're
            talking about.

                         MATT
            That show of yours, on TNT--what's
            it called? Aw, what's the difference.
            You could be a dead ringer for the
            girl on that show.

                         DOMINO
            I don't watch television.

                         MATT
            Well, you're missing out on some
            really good shows, then. Anyway,
            you look like that girl who's
            always escaping from death traps
            and whatnot. It's fake as hell, but
            she's real pretty. Domino somethin'.
            She's one of them escape artists,
            but it's all fake. Come to think of
            it, it's not a very good show. And
            she ain't even my kind of girl. A
            girl like that's always on, 24
            hours a day. High maintenance!

                         DOMINO
                   (sigh of relief)
            So who is ... what's your kind of girl?

                         MATT
            Let's just say I like a gal with a
            little more seasoning to her.

                         DOMINO
            Oh. So you like older women. And
            you prefer to sell the younger ones
            on the black market, right? Put
            them on a slow boat to China?

                                                           15.


                         MATT
            Aw, no. You got me all wrong, Lady.
            I'm not no slave trader. Naw. I'm
            taking you to Gruber's on 23. You
            know. Gruber's ... The meat market.

                         DOMINO
            What are you saying, that you're
            going to ... eat me?

                         MATT
            Naw. Aw, hell no. Is that what you
            thought. Naw. I ain't going to be
            gnawing on them nylons tonight.
            Someone else is gonna get that
            honor. Some chump richer than I'll
            ever be. Y'know, they say that
            redbone is a real delicacy.

EXT.   HIGHWAY

Matt's big truck barrels down the highway. The decal on the
side of his rig reads, "Sawney's Beans."

INT.   TRUCK CAB

                         ROADKILLER (OS)
                   (Three clicks)
            Hey there, Good Buddy!

                         MATT
            10-4, Good Buddy!

                         ROADKILLER (OS)
            Looking for some company?

                         DOMINO (OS)
            Help!

                         MATT
            Sounds like you got a live one! But
            I bet she can't compare to the
            choice fillet I'm haulin' tonight.
            Aw, did I say, "fillet"? I meant to
            say "filly."
                   (no response)
            Yeah. Got your ears on? 10-4? Good
            Buddy? Hello?

A fresh voice enters the conversation. It's Boss, leader of
the Double Dogs, a gang of cut-throat, low-rent hoods.

                         BOSS (OS)
            Roger that, Trucker.

                                                           16.


                         MATT
            Howdy, howdy, Good Buddy.

                         BOSS (OS)
            Did I hear you say you've already
            got company? Because I sure could
            use a referral. New in town,
            looking for girlfriend quality, if
            you know what I mean.

                         MATT
            Oh, yes sir. I've got a real beauty
            on this haul. There ain't much of
            her, but what there is, is choice.
            Grade A! Come again, y'hear?

                         BOSS (OS)
            And what have you got that I
            couldn't get at Gruber's?

                         MATT
            Nothin'. But why pay the middleman?

Long pause. Sounds tempting.

                         MATT
            You there?

                         BOSS
            What color's your house?

EXT.   HIGHWAY UNDERPASS

Matt opens the back door of his trailer for the Dogs, so
they can ogle his merchandise.

                         MATT
            Was I lying or ain't she somethin'?

                         BOSS
            She's somethin' alright. And that's
            not even saying much.

                         TUCKER
            You said it, Boss!

                         BOSS
            Stifle it, Tucker! I'm talkin'
            business here.
                   (to Matt)
            So how much are you askin'?

                                                           17.


                         MATT
            You ain't a cop now, are you?
            'cause if you was ...

                         BOSS
            Nah.

                         MATT
            Well, then I'll take 50 bucks a pound.

                         BOSS
            Jesus, that better be some sweet meat!

                         MATT
            Choice! And you can do as you
            please, whenever you please, 'cause
            that's your business.

                         BOSS
            I'm okay, you're okay ... right?

                         MATT
            Yeah, but the rest of the world's
            all messed up. Free enterprise.
            It's appalling that money keeps
            this whole sick and sordid
            operation going, ain't it?

                         BOSS
            Pay the man, Butchie.

From behind, Butchie clubs Matt over the head; Matt drops
out of frame.

                         BOSS
            Too bad. He was a swell Joe and all.

                         TUCKER
            Now let's claim our prize package!

                         BOSS
            Better use a canister of knock-out,
            first. From what I hear, this
            kitten's got claws, even if she is
            a little tied-up at the moment.

They laugh as though this is funny, lob in a gas grenade to
knock her out, and then Butchie and Tucker enter, wearing
gas masks. They untie and then carry her from the rig,
hammock fashion.

                                                           18.


INT.   DOUBLE DOG CAR

In the back seat of a luxury car, Domino lies unconscious in
Butchie and Boss's lap. The camera regards her at great
length through their sunroof. Her body is prone, vulnerable.
They tie her hands and legs with firm white rope.

                         BUTCHIE
            So this is Domino Dare, World's
            Sexiest Escape Artist.

                         TUCKER
                   (driving)
            She's gonna make our name. Overnight!

                         BOSS
            Just shut up and drive straight.

                         BUTCHIE
            She's pretty pretty, alright. Too
            bad she's about to get fingered by
            fate!

Domino stirs. Perhaps she hears this conversation in her
sleep. She turns over in their laps.

                         BOSS
            Somebody called in and said we
            should stick her inside a pie and
            serve her for dessert on Pay Per
            View, but I told him to get stuffed!
            We don't do that kind of thing
            around here. If you can't be a
            gentleman in this life, what are
            you? Some kind of dog! Am I not wrong?

                         BUTCHIE AND TUCKER
            Yes!
                   (beat)
            No ...?
                   (longer beat)
            Yes?

                         BOSS
            So what can one do when all of the
            classic deathtraps have been done
            ... to death? All the classic
            damsel-in-distress perils have been
            taken, like the "tied to the
            railroad track" gag, or the
            "strapped to a log in a sawmill"
            scenario.

                                                           19.


                         BUTCHIE
            How about Joker's Rocket, with a
            live feed? Send her to the moon,
            like Alice.

                         BOSS
            Say, that's kinda tasty. It's got
            that psychological torture element
            that makes for great ratings. Think
            about it: She knows exactly how
            many seconds she has until blast-
            off because we'll be counting it
            down live on national t.v., but
            she'll be powerless to do anything
            about it because she'll be
            perfectly pinioned against our rocket.

                         BUTCHIE
            You don't think it's too ... phallic?

                         BOSS
            What are you? Prejudiced? Their
            money is as good as anybody's!
                   (shakes head in disgust)
            Tucker, we got a fully operational
            rocket with launching pad at our
            disposal?

                         TUCKER
            I think there might be one on the
            roof, Boss. I'll see what I can do.

The phone rings. Boss answers.

                         BOSS
            Speak to me. Yeah. Yeah. Yeah. What
            was that third thing again? Oh,
            yeah. That's good. Now do it one
            more time, but with a Swedish
            accent. Ah, yeah.
                   (putting down phone, satiated)
            That was the Big Guy.

A communal sigh. He must really be some guy!

INT.   CONTROL ROOM

The Dogs, from their control room, monitor a roof-top
launching pad upon which waits a rocket. And strapped to
that? Domino! The Dogs seem concerned, however, only with
getting better reception from a disagreeable monitor. Other
monitors, targeting her peaks and valleys, fill the wall.

                                                           20.


The camera again favors Domino over the villains, who are
largely heard but not seen, in the same way that a live
television sometimes guides the vagaries of an afternoon nap.

                         BUTCHIE
                   (successfully
                   slapping their
                   monitor back to life)
            Viola!

                         TUCKER
            Whaddya mean, "viola"?

                         BUTCHIE
            Like the French say. You know,
            viola. V-i-o-l-a.

                         TUCKER
            You're thinking of voila. V-o-i-l-a.
            Completely different word. A viola
            is like a violin or somethin'.

                         BUTCHIE
            You know, I think you're right.

Boss enters.

                         BOSS
            Stifle it. We gotta go brief
            tonight's Barbarella for her
            maiden--and final--voyage.

EXT.   ROOFTOP DEATHTRAP

Domino awakes and hears their scheme (courtesy of a P.A.
they've rigged for the occasion) but plays possum. Her face
nonetheless involuntarily twitches at their barbaric plans
for her. Her body strains against the tight straps holding
her fast.

                         TUCKER (OS)
            Or debrief her!

                         BUTCHIE (OS)
            Why, that's like a half-eaten crotch!

                         BOSS (OS)
            You just said a mouthful, kid.

                                                           21.


INT.   CONTROL ROOM

                         BOSS (CONT.)
            But now shut up and listen: The
            odds follow three trajectories
            tonight. One, she could go up a few
            hundred feet and pop just like a
            bottle rocket, in which case globs
            of her body will land in the
            parking lot of the Pink Flamingo
            like just so much scorched pork. Or
            two, the heat from the rocket could
            melt right through the elastic
            polymers in her escape suit, and
            cook her goose in 10 seconds flat.

                         BUTCHIE
            What if her escape suit is built to
            withstand that much heat? Wouldn't
            it boil her innards like haggis? Oh,
            wait a minute. I think I just
            answered my own question.

                         TUCKER
            That proves it!

                         BOSS
            Sure, sure. It's all good. As long
            as the night ends with fifty yids
            of Malacci Brothers money in my
            lapel pocket. Butchie, is that P.A.
            working? I want to hear every
            decibel of that cash cow's meowing
            as she passes over the moon, if you
            don't mind me mixin' metaphors.

EXT.  ROOFTOP DEATHTRAP

Butchie and Tucker admire Domino in her space-age bondage.

                         BUTCHIE
            Whoever knew a couple of low-lifes
            could be so high-tech. Huh, Tucker?
            Hey. What time is it?

Among the various lights and LEDs dotting this prop is a
standard digital alarm clock, which shows the time to be
1:55. Tucker regards it, and then answers Butchie with great
sarcasm:

                         TUCKER
            1:55.

                                                           22.


                         BUTCHIE
            Hey, look! She's coming to!

                         DOMINO
            Gasp! You evil-doers!

                         BUTCHIE
                   (to Tucker)
            Who talks like that?!
                   (to Domino, eyes rolling)
            Sure, Domino. Whatever you say, Domino.

                         DOMINO
            I'm not Domino!

                         BUTCHIE
            That's too bad. Because if you were,
            you'd know how to use that escape
            suit we've so graciously slipped
            you into. It's the same one you
            wore over Box Canyon. Remember? No?
            Well, how about that bike? Maybe
            that'll stoke your memory.

He points to a prototype cycle in Domino's colors, which
occupies a garish Vegas-style display case in one corner of
the roof; beside it stands a mannequin in a sleek black
liquid rubber "flight suit," not unlike the number worn by
Julie Newmar's Catwoman. Domino's costume, in fact, is
simply a purple variation on it, a la Yvonne Craig's Batgirl
costume.

As Domino's eyes scan for help, she notices several cameras,
all set to record her doom from various angles.

                         TUCKER
                   (regarding the mannequin)
            And that's that tight little flight
            suit of yours that got me through
            puberty! I got it off eBay!

                         BUTCHIE
            Yeah, you were a real spandex
            living doll, then and now. Girl of
            my dreams! I've still got your
            poster on my wall, but it's got
            stuff on it!

                         TUCKER
            So whadda you figure your odds are,
            Domino Dare? Word on the street is
            that you haven't got a chance, but
            it's all good, because the Boss
            gets a piece of all that action.

                                                           23.


                         BUTCHIE
            I'm betting that your sudden rise
            to the top will cut off all of the
            oxygen to your brain. Or maybe the
            nitrogen levels in your blood will
            rise with the sudden pressure shift,
            and you'll get the bends. That
            beautiful body of yours won't know
            what hit it!

Boss enters.

                         BOSS
            Cool it, Butchie! You're drooling
            all over the merchandise!

                         BUTCHIE
            Sorry, Boss. I was just taunting
            the cannon fodder. Hey, Tucker!
            Fifty bucks says you can't do
            jumping jacks on the edge of this
            roof ... wit'cha eyes closed!

                         TUCKER
            Now why would I go and do something
            that stupid?

                         BUTCHIE
            Because you're chicken, Tucker, and
            you know it, and if you didn't,
            you'd never be sure of your own
            manhood.

                         TUCKER
            That's the dumbest thing I ever
            heard ... so far tonight!

                         BUTCHIE
            ... and you'd be making me look bad,
            because I'll tell you right here
            and now, I wouldn't have the balls
            to do it.

                         TUCKER
            Yeah, well, I ain't gonna do it!

                         BUTCHIE
            Oh yeah?
                   (looking back and
                   forth between Tucker
                   and Boss, snapping
                   his gum, pausing for effect)
            Well ... I ... double dog dare ya!

                                                           24.


Dramatic music cue, "trombone zooms." He's just invoked
their honor code!

                         TUCKER
            Butchie! You don't mean it! You
            can't mean it! You're just talkin'
            here, right? Boss?! He's just talkin'!

                         BOSS
            No, he's got you there, Tucker.
            Them's the rules. Dare Force
            Handbook. Chapter Six.

Tucker backs to the roof's edge, obviously terrified.

                         BUTCHIE
            And you gotta recite the Pledge of
            Allegiance while you do 'em!

                         TUCKER
            You didn't say nothin' 'bout no ...
            aaagggh!

Before he's even really begun, Tucker falls backwards to his
death. Boss sadly shakes his head.

                         BOSS
            There. That's really nice! I hope
            you're satisfied, Butchie. You was
            friends! Since you was both
            choirboys at St. Pete's!

                         BUTCHIE
            What? I told him I wouldn't a done it!

                         BOSS
            Some kind of friend you turned out
            to be, as Barry Manilow once sang.
            Jesus. I loved that kid like he was
            my own son.

                         BUTCHIE
            Wait a minute. I thought he was
            your son.

                         BOSS
            Well. There you go.

They exit.

Her memory returning after a brief struggle against her
bonds, Domino discovers that she does know how to deploy the
various tools in her escape suit: Her glove conceals a tiny
hand-saw, which she uses to cut through the straps.

                                                           25.


A buzz-saw extends from her tights, and does the same.
Further, unzipping her boot, she removes a strange key,
apparently to the Domino cycle. She mounts it, then roars
down the side of the building, a newly liberated woman.

INT.  CONTROL ROOM

The surviving Double Dogs scream at all of this as it
unfolds on their monitor.

                         BOSS
            No, no, no! It ain't supposed to be
            this way!

Butchie is already on his feet, struggling with the door.

                         BUTCHIE
            It's stuck!

                         BOSS
            I thought I told you to oil that!

                         BUTCHIE
            I forgot. And now we can't get out
            of here! We're trapped like rats!

Boss shoots Butchie.

                         BOSS
            Speak for yourself.

EXT.  CITYSCAPE

Domino travels ghostly streets on her Domino cycle, in time
to her way-groovy theme song. Her luscious curves sway to
the beat.

__________________

NOTE: TO PRESERVE OUR SURPRISE ENDING,

THE FINAL SCENES HAVE BEEN DELETED FROM THIS INTERNET-ONLY
EDITION.

FOR THE SHOCKING CONCLUSION TO OUR SLEAZY TALE, YOU'LL JUST
HAVE TO WAIT FOR THE DVD RELEASE!

(Hint: Our delectable DareDoll may just have a date with a
doughnut if she's not careful!)