Ojo Flojo

1 INT – ROOM 216 – DAY

BLACK SCREEN: The unmistakable sound of a credit card tapping rapidly against a mirror. Then, the hard snort…

CUT TO:

AMBROSIO SEPULVEDA sits at the edge of his unmade hotel bed. A stocky Mexican in his mid-30’s. Ill-fitting tuxedo, bowtie undone. Mirror in one hand, he wipes his pencil-thin mustache with the other.

One eye is slightly bruised and swollen. His lower lip has a neat scab in the center. He has a patch of white hair above his left temple. Without warning, he slips into a weeping fit. Then, just as suddenly, he laughs his way out of it. Both actions unnerving.

The room is dark. Darkroom dark, except for the television and a thin strip of window not obscured by the thick drapes. Outside, a weekday like any.

The room’s only table is large. It is where our traveling magician’s trunk sits wide open.

This, and the scattered remnants of 48 hectic, and mostly mischievous, hours in the room: empty bottles, discarded drug baggies, clothing, plates of half-eaten room service, newspapers, and a variety porno mags and call-girl ads. Some ads are circled. Others, cut out.

AMBROSIO approaches the TV to fiddle with the channels. The volume has been, and will remain, very low.

FLIPPING CHANNELS: An early Fleischer Bros. cartoon, Soul Train word scramble (Answer: W.E.B. Du Bois), gimmick-magician MASON BLAZE’S elaborate public funeral, Ernest Borgnine screaming and clutching a Gatling gun, and self-help guru BARCLAY RIZVI working a crowded amphitheater. Business as usual.

AMBROSIO grows bored. He spots his gangster-ass shades next to a deck of cards on the nightstand.

He walks over and puts them on.

2 INT – HOTEL HALLWAY - DAY

He slinks down the gaudy corridor towards the nearest elevator. He spreads his wings and glides his fingertips along both sides of the corridor, even over a HOUSEKEEPER’s head. She doesn’t notice.

At the elevator, he dry-heaves into an nearby plastic plant. Thick saliva dribbles out, but nothing else.

3 INT – HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

The HOTEL MANAGER, FRONT DESK CLERK and a group of young GERMAN TOURISTS haggle over a bill and stop only briefly to stare at AMBROSIO when he stumbles past, casually stops to light a cigarette with magician’s flash paper produced from nowhere, then continues towards the main entrance.

Before exiting, he spots a generic travel brochure sitting in a poorly-stocked lobby rack. He grabs it and skims.

AMBROSIO

There is a place in México where your watch will not go. Or a car, you know?

(pointing with brochure to a GERMAN)

You know.

He puts the brochure right back where he found it. He exits, whistling.

4 EXT – HOTEL - DAY

The daylight is merciless. Thank God for sunglasses.

Across the street, two JUMPSUITED MEN guide a large, Broadway-style section of marquee off of the back of a truck.

It is being hoisted, by crane, high overhead to an awaiting BARCLAY RIZVI billboard. This section is, simply, the word “DAMAGED.”

4 EXT – HOTEL – DAY (CONT’D)

A man in a PANDA suit stands just beyond the designated safety barrier. He holds a sign that neatly reads “TENET #7: MIRACLES ARE HAPPENING ALL AROUND YOU! NOW MORE THAN EVER! –B. RIZVI”

AMBROSIO stares just long enough to see the rigging snap high above and safety ropes fall. “DAMAGED” is now hurtling to the pavement below.

The JUMPSUITED MEN scramble for cover. When the fiberglass strikes the ground, it bursts and splits into many sections.

Most are too big too fly, or too small to do major damage. But one healthy section of the letter “D” ricochets off of the pavement and into our PANDA.

PANDA is tossed forcefully against a building and lands with a muffled groan. BYSTANDERS approach quickly.

AMBROSIO stares blankly, then turns and walks in the opposite direction.

In front of a municipal building adjacent to the hotel is a group of young SKATERS trying, with little success, to perform a kick-flip.

AMBOROSIO chats one SKATER up, offers the group smokes, then asks to borrow one of their boards.

He nails the kick-flip on his second attempt.

TITLE CARD:

THE HISTORY OF MAGIC

PART I:

GLORIOUS BIRDS

5 EXT – APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY

LOURDES: 20’s, tall, slender, half-Polynesian and half-black. She’s in a wife-beater and mini shorts. Her hair is in a tight bandana.

5 EXT – APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY (CONT’D)

She sits in her window sill, smoking and staring at the CHEF in the window of the Chinese restaurant across the street and six floors down.

Traffic and city noise drift up to her. She is oblivious.

6 INT – LOURDES’ APT. – DAY

Inside, a slouchy jazz record plays.

Her place is tiny. Crammed with second-hand knickknacks and ephemera. Mismatched, grimy, adorable.

She finishes her smoke, climbs down from the sill and puts the butt out in a nearby Betty Boop ashtray.

She eases over to the turntable, stops the record, flips it over, lets the needle drop.

LOURDES walks to the bathroom. She pees, washes up, returns to the living room. She disappears into a comfy-looking leather chair that looks like it once belonged in a fancy library.

At a cluttered table near her slippered feet, one of several cell phones begins to ring and vibrate. She checks out the other two that have pending messages before picking up the right one: It plays the theme from “The Monkees.”

She looks at it for a good long while. She sighs and answers it just before it goes to message.

7 INT – LIQUOR STORE - DAY

A PAKISTANI CLERK, dressed in traditional garb, sits behind the counter. Her HUSBAND sits nearby reading the sports section of a Pakistani newspaper.

The TV overhead blares a confusing foreign game show.

AMBROSIO approaches with two handles of mid-grade vodka.

7 INT – LIQUOR STORE – DAY (CONT’D)

He places them on the counter then reaches into

his coat pocket and retrieves a large wad of money.

CLERK

May I see your ID?

AMBROSIO, annoyed, huffs and plays along.

He hands her his Mexican passport.

She takes it. Her HUSBAND glances up. She checks it over briefly and hands it back, shaking her head.

CLERK

You are not the American.

AMBROSIO

I am not any American.

AMBROSIO takes the passport back. He glances around at every visible trinket that screams “Pakistan!” His eyes land back on her.

AMBROSIO

Oh, come on. Don’t make pantomimes.

8 EXT – STREET - DAY

AMBROSIO lights up a cigarette and walks back into the hotel with a bag full of booze.

9 INT – HOTEL LOBBY - DAY

The GERMANS have now taken their seats throughout the lobby.

AMBROSIO is flagged down by the FRONT DESK CLERK.

AMBROSIO puts his cigarette out on the sole of his shoe before the CLERK can complain.

CLERK

Excuse me, sir. You can’t--

AMBROSIO

Uh-huh.

9 INT – HOTEL LOBBY – DAY (CONT’D)

CLERK

You’re not supposed to… You have a message.

AMBROSIO waits for the message.

AMBROSIO

So?

CLERK

So what?

AMBROSIO

So what is the message?

CLERK

She’s sitting right over there.

AMBROSIO follows the CLERK’S hand gesture down the lobby, just beyond the GERMANS, to LOURDES. She sits alone. She gazes up, shuts her phone, smiles.

AMBROSIO has yet to put two and two together.

CLERK

She’s been waiting for 15 minutes, so.

AMBROSIO

So. What?

CLERK

So, nothing. She said she’d wait until you arrived.

AMBROSIO

And now?

CLERK

And now you’ve arrived. You are in room 216, correct?

AMBROSIO

Correct.

9 INT – HOTEL LOBBY – DAY (CONT'D)

CLERK

So, I guess you gotta take that up with your visitor, don’t you?

AMBROSIO

Correct.

LOURDES has sidled up to the duo and waited patiently to interject.

LOURDES

Hi-ya.

She catches AMBROSIO off-guard. LOURDES extends her hand in a playground fashion. Hard to tell if it’s a method of disarmament or of sizing-up. Regardless, AMBROSIO’S hand meets hers with little effort.

She resembles a schoolteacher letting loose on karaoke night, only better. She breaks the ice by revealing to the CLERK:

LOURDES

I’m his date. Do you remember what those are like?

The CLERK sighs and returns to the unruly GERMANS.

AMBROSIO

I, eh, you are—

LOURDES

Lola said you were having a good time. Boy, she wasn’t kidding.

CUT TO:

INT – HOTEL – NIGHT - FLASHBACK

AMBROSIO sits on the edge of the bed and looks back at LOLA who, leaning against the headrest, blows him a giant, heart-shaped smoke ring.

AMBROSIO

Lola! Oh, yes, yes—

9 INT – HOTEL LOBBY – DAY (CONT'D)

AMBROSIO

(laughs)

Yes, Lola! The—

LOURDES

Yeah, your Saturday night. She said you were very sweet, real classy.

AMBROSIO is reassembling the evening with LOLA in his head.

LOURDES

So, you still want the girlfriend fantasy, or…

AMBROSIO

Or?

LOURDES

Or, you know, whatever. You’re paying me. If you want the girlfriend fantasy then okay, or else, you know.

AMBROSIO

No. Yes, that will be fine.

They smile at each other.

AMBROSIO

Are you hungry?

LOURDES

I’m hungry but I’m more thirsty than hungry.

AMBROSIO

Me too. There is a restaurant I like nearby. They have alcohol.

LOURDES

Okay.

10 INT – RESTAURANT – DAY

The dingy joint is almost empty.

10 INT – RESTAURANT – DAY (CONT’D)

They sit quietly at a candle-lit booth. LOURDES’ nature, a sort of slinky charm, an easy giddiness, comes through in every move.

AMBROSIO is trying hard to look like he’s not trying hard.

Silence, until:

LOURDES

Lola said you were a real hoot.

AMBROSIO nods in agreement.

AMBROSIO

Correct.

LOURDES

Is it true you’re a magician?

AMBROSIO

Yes.

LOURDES

Cool. Like Mason Blaze? Isn’t that a shame about all that?

AMBROSIO

No, not like Mason Blaze. More like the opposite.

Silence.

LOURDES

Talk, will ya’!

AMBROSIO

Ugh. About?

LOURDES

Anything. Please.

AMBROSIO

Well. Alright. A girl just walked in who is about two meters, eh, six foot tall.

10 INT – RESTAURANT – DAY (CONT’D)

LOURDES

(looking)

Man, she is pretty tall.

AMBROSIO

Don’t stare, that is rude. Probably people make fun of her a lot.

LOURDES

You think? I don’t know. I wish I was tall like that.

AMBROSIO

You are tall.

LOURDES

I know. No heels either, man.

AMBROSIO

Yeah?

LOURDES

Yeah. It’s only a recent thing.

AMBROSIO

Recent?

LOURDES

Not, like, today recent. But I just, it’s just, I was always short growing up and everything. But then I grew, like, four inches in three years.

AMBROSIO

Yes?

LOURDES

Yes! I shit you not. Weird, huh?

AMBROSIO

Yes. I mean, no. They say, or I saw on television one day, that you don’t stop growing until you are about twenty-five or twenty-six years old.

10 INT – RESTAURANT – DAY (CONT’D)

LOURDES

Oh yeah? I heard that every seven years your cells, like all the cells in your body, they all die and you get new ones.

AMBROSIO

Cells?

LOURDES

Yeah, you know. The little, tiny things inside of you that make you who you are.

Well, they all die.

AMBROSIO

Oh. At the same time?

LOURDES

Maybe. Sure. I don’t know.

They ponder.

LOURDES

Where are you from?

AMBROSIO

Guadalajara.

LOURDES

Oh. Mexican?

AMBROSIO

Yes, but I have other interests, as well. And you?

LOURDES waves her index finger in a circle.

LOURDES

Everywhere, kind of. My old man was Air Force, so I did a lot of moving. I was born in Hawaii, though.

AMBROSIO

Yes, really? Is it nice, like on the television shows?

10 INT – RESTAURANT – DAY (CONT’D)

LOURDES

Yeah it’s mostly nice. You’ve never been?

AMBROSIO

I was supposed to go once, with my wife. But we did not go.

LOURDES

Oh, married, huh?

AMBROSIO

I was married. Was married.

They ponder.

LOURDES

You know, up until it became a state, Hawaii had it’s own king and queen.

AMBROSIO

When was that?

LOURDES

I don’t remember.

CUT TO BLACK: Their VOICES mingle with the background chatter.

LOURDES (V/O)

So, what next?

AMBROSIO (V/O)

Let’s go to the hotel.

LOURDES (V/O)

Sure. But let’s stop by a store.

11 EXT – LIQUOR STORE - DAY

AMBROSIO lights a smoke and posts-up near the entrance. He hands her a bunch of cash.

11 EXT – LIQUOR STORE – DAY (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO

Get us alcohol. And I also need an international calling card. For 100 or 200 minutes.

LOURDES

What kind?

AMBROSIO

Beer is okay.

LOURDES

No, what kind of calling card, dummy?

AMBROSIO

Oh, whatever that is cheap. No, wait. There is one card that has a Chihuahua with a sombrero. That one.

LOURDES pokes her head into the store.

LOURDES

Okay, wait here.

She trails closely behind a group of chatty SORORITY GIRLS as they enter.

AMBROSIO loiters.

Moments later, LOURDES hauls ass out of the store, grabbing AMBROSIO’S arm as she passes. She fumbles with her purse and the boosted 12-pack under her coat.

LOURDES

Hold this!

AMBROSIO

What did you do?

LOURDES

Nothing, hold my purse!

AMBROSIO grabs the purse. As LOURDES readjusts her grip on the beer, he swings them into an alley.

11 EXT – LIQUOR STORE – DAY (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO

(spots the beer)

What the hell?

LOURDES

What?

AMBROSIO

What if they saw you?

LOURDES

What if? They don’t--

AMBROSIO

Are you goddamn stupid?

He backpedals. Silence. She smiles a bit, then reveals the 300 minute Chihuahua-and-sombrero calling card from her coat pocket.

LOURDES

Magic, right?

AMBROSIO laughs.

AMBROSIO

Come on, let’s go.

AMBROSIO takes the beer and hands LOURDES the purse. He glances over his shoulder as they jet.

12 INT – ROOM 216 – NIGHT

The TV plays gently, locked onto a MASON BLAZE memorial special. The caption reads: “America’s Magician.” He’s perched majestically on Lincoln’s nose at Mt. Rushmore.

LOURDES has her feet up on the table between she and AMBROSIO, who has removed his coat.

Booze, drugs, etc. BLAZE’S failed magic act replaying on TV catches LOURDES’ attention.

12 INT – ROOM 216 – NIGHT (CONT’D)

LOURDES

He was so good.

AMBROSIO

He is a phony.

LOURDES

Aw, c’mon! He’s good.

AMBROSIO

He did not invent the acts. They’ve been around for centuries.

LOURDES

What do you mean?

BLAZE leaps. He becomes ensnared in the previously-hidden cables supporting him. He is tossed against Honest Abe’s chin with resounding force. ON TV:

TV REPORTER #1

Amazing! It’s like he’s floating in air!

TV REPORTER #2

No it’s not, Chet. I can see the cables, they’re right there.

TV REPORTER #1

Simply incredible!

The CROWD mutters and laughs. BLAZE writhes.

AMBROSIO

(to self, in SPANISH)

He is revealing the same mystery.

LOURDES

Huh. What did you…

(laughs, looks back at AMBROSIO)

Show me something.

AMBROSIO

(thinks)

Okay.

12 INT – ROOM 216 – NIGHT (CONT’D)

He reaches in his pocket, removes a pack of Famous Cigarillos and pulls one out.

AMBROSIO

Allow me your lighter.

LOURDES tosses her antique Zippo over. AMBROSIO admires it, lights up, makes a fist with his free hand, and slides the lit cigarette into the opening at the top of his fist.

He bumps both fists together twice and opens them to reveal nothing but thin air.

LOURDES

Holy crap!

AMBROSIO then makes a fist, opens his hand, and reveals the lit cigarette. He takes a drag, holds it out.

AMBROSIO

You want to share?

LOURDES

How’d you do that?

AMBROSIO

I cannot explain it to you.

LOURDES

C’mon, please. I won’t tell anyone, I promise. I--

AMBROSIO
Fucking no! Okay?!

LOURDES stops, looks him over. She clears her throat, reaches for the cigarette he’s holding, takes it, takes a drag and leans back into her chair.

She turns her attention back to the television where BLAZE is being airlifted.

12 INT – ROOM 216 – NIGHT (CONT’D)

TV REPORTER #1

You just don’t see magic like that anymore, Sasha.

TV REPORTER #2

You sure don’t, Chet.

FADE TO BLACK

13 INT – ROOM 216 – DAY

Lost in thought, LOURDES stands by the window. She’s topless.

He semi-startles her when, from bed, he asks:

AMBROSIO

Are you hungry? I need coffee.

LOURDES

Sure. But I’ll have to charge you for an extra day.

AMBROSIO

Oh. Fine.

LOURDES

I’m joking. But you are paying for breakfast, right?

14 INT – CAB – MOVING - DAY

LOURDES is trying, without success, to recreate the magic trick. She burns her palm a little bit.

LOURDES

Ow. So, you were married once?

AMBROSIO

Once.

LOURDES

What happened?

14 INT – CAB – MOVING – DAY (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO

She was the--

(thinks)

She was sick. She got very sick and died.

LOURDES

Oh.

15 INT – RESTAURANT - DAY

This place is a lot nicer and a lot busier than the previous day’s restaurant. Fashionable YUPPIES sit all around our hung-over heroes.

She eats waffles and he drinks coffee. They don’t say a word and only occasionally smile at each other.

16 EXT – RESTAURANT - DAY

LOURDES ”Yeah, okays” on her phone and abruptly hangs

up. She sighs and smiles at AMBROSIO. He smokes.

He discreetly hands her a roll of cash and she discreetly puts it in her purse.

AMBROSIO

You’re not going to count it?

LOURDES

What for?

AMBROSIO

Take care of yourself.

LOURDES

Yeah, you too. You know where to find me, so. If you’re ever in town again.

AMBROSIO waves politely, then walks down the sidewalk and out of sight.

Moments later, LOURDES’ taxi arrives. She climbs in and the cab pulls away.

17 EXT – BUS STOP - DAY

AMBROSIO approaches the stop where two black TEENS, FEMALE and MALE, occupy the other seats. He sits next to them. The FEMALE finishes a Big Mac out of a to-go bag.

She is arguing with her companion about the validity of the MASON BLAZE incident.

AMBROSIO hasn’t even noticed that he’s been staring at the FEMALE. She sure does.

FEMALE

(whips around)

Can I help you?

AMBROSIO snaps out of his trance.

AMBROSIO

That smells very good.

The FEMALE looks him over, then looks in the bag.

FEMALE

Well, there’s some fries if you want. Not many left. I don’t want ‘em, though.

AMBROSIO mulls it over.

AMBROSIO

Yes, I’ll have the French fries. Okay.

She hands him the bag. He reaches in and removes a few fries. She turns and continues her conversation.

AMBROSIO

Thank you.

He chews slowly.

A city bus traveling the opposite direction stops at the intersection across the street.

He spots a YOUNG MAN near the back with a bandage around his head, a neckbrace, and matching black eyes staring right at him.

17 EXT – BUS STOP – DAY (CONT’D)

All AMBROSIO can see is his head, and doesn’t realize who he is until the YOUNG MAN stands, puts the PANDA head back on, takes his broken pro-Barclay Rizvi sign, and slowly exits the bus.

FADE TO BLACK

THE

HISTORY

MAGIC

PART II:

THE WILLIAM TELL ACT

José

Luis

González

1 EXT - FARM - DAY

WESTERN ARMENIA, 1977

A desolate farmhouse on a rugged hillside.

A lean, middle-aged father, AVEDIS, leads his reluctant 11 year-old son ISAHAK by the upper arm towards the deteriorating barn on the uppermost edge of the property.

ISAHAK is beyond fright. He is running purely on whatever is created when fear and adrenalin blend.

AVEDIS has a pistol-style crossbow slung by a weathered leather strap across his back. A flask protrudes from his waist pouch.

ISAHAK, with all his strength, digs his heels into the dry earth. His father turns back, stares his child down, conveying the gravity of the situation.

He yanks the child further.

AVEDIS, delirious from excessive drink and severe schizophrenia, maintains a bizarre, mumbled DIALOGUE just beneath his breath.

They reach the barn. ISAHAK digs his heels once more and forces AVEDIS to stop and look back. AVEDIS lays an “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, kid,” look on him.

2 INT – BARN - DAY

Abandoned, the barn is cavernous from lack of use. There is a thin layer of hay on the ground and a row of abandoned animal pens, a workbench with a transistor radio, random tools.

AVEDIS’ mumbling becomes more erratic in both tone and pace. ISAHAK eyes his father closely as he goes to the radio and switches it on. Music now softly plays.

AVEDIS walks ISAHAK to a support post in the center of the barn. He takes a kerchief from his pocket and binds ISAHAK to the post, face out. He says the first,

2 INT – BARN – DAY (CONT’D)

and only, clear thing (in ARMENIAN, of course):

AVEDIS

Be a man about it! Be a man!

ISAHAK is in tears, but not crying. AVEDIS makes his way to a chopping block 50 feet across from ISAHAK.

AVEDIS sits. He takes the flask, finishes the contents, and tosses it against the wall where it startles a crow. The crow escapes through the cracked roof.

Then, he retrieves a perfect specimen of an apple from his waist pouch. He eyes it for a moment, then walks methodically back to ISAHAK. He places it upon his head and gives him a look that reassures the boy that non-cooperation will be far worse an option at this point. He means fucking business.

AVEDIS takes the crossbow and loads it on his walk back to the chopping block.

ISAHAK stands perfectly still, knowing what’s at stake if the apple falls from its perch.

The apple, catching a stray sunbeam, is radiant. Almost religiously so.

AVEDIS is silent when he reaches his mark. He sighs, and faces the boy.

The crossbow is loaded and AVEDIS raises and rests it on his forearm for stability.

He eyes his boy and the target upon his head. AVEDIS smiles.

ISAHAK, at that instant, inhales and holds.

With a sudden TWANG and WHIP, the bolt pierces the space between the father and son and impales the apple.

2 INT – BARN – DAY (CONT’D)

ISAHAK releases his lung’s contents and instantly hyperventilates.

AVEDIS reloads the crossbow.

AVEDIS’ full attention is again on the boy. He places

the crossbow across his lap, mumbles more gibberish, and reaches into his pouch to retrieve a peach. A peach that is significantly smaller than the apple.

He holds the peach up to his eye to compare, in proper perspective, to ISAHAK’S head.

ISAHAK stares stoically at his father. He is prepared.

AVEDIS, mumbling, stands up to place the peach on his son’s head.

In doing so, he forgets the precarious position of the crossbow on his lap.

Upon standing, the crossbow slips to one side and the butt end strikes the ground. Before AVEDIS can react, the foot-long projectile imbeds almost fully into his Adam’s apple. Only the feathery end is exposed.

AVEDIS stands perfectly still for what seems like hours. His mumbling is then accompanied by blood pouring from his throat and mouth.

He eyes his son, then collapses like a demolished building.

The textbook kill-shot is effective.

ISAHAK, still tied, takes several moments to register the situation. A fresh tear rolls across the birthmark beneath his left eye.

3 INT – LIMOUSINE - DAY

PRESENT DAY

ISAHAK, now much older (but still recognizable by the birthmark), and now answering to the name MASON BLAZE,

3 INT – LIMOUSINE – DAY (CONT’D)

rides comfortably in the back seat of an elegant limo. Music plays softly in the BG.

On BLAZE’S side of the limo, between his legs giving him head, in fact, is his handsome personal assistant TREVOR.

Across the wide divide is DINORAH, his agent. She enjoys the view while giving some POOR SAP on the other end of her headset the once-over.

DINORAH hangs up, sighs.

DINORAH

You feeling magical yet, or what, bitch?

The limo eases to a halt.

4 EXT – LIMOUSINE – DAY

TREVOR, wiping his mouth, is the first to exit.

DINORAH follows and holds the limo door open.

BLAZE steps out to the roar of a gathered CROWD.

He leans over to DINORAH and says:

BLAZE

Annie Oakley was a helluva shot. Didn’t mean shit to the Kaiser, though.

Despite the sun already set, BLAZE reaches into his expensive leather coat and slips on his designer sunglasses.

The CROWD eats it up. He turns to face them as the limo pulls away. Now he is the only thing standing between them and Mount Rushmore. Majestically spotlit, flanked by thick stage curtains emblazoned with the official “MASON BLAZE” logo, swarmed by camera choppers, showered by fireworks.

FADE OUT

THE

HISTORY

MAGIC

PART III:

KATY JURADO

José

Luis

González

Michael

Tracy

1 INT – TRAIN DEPOT - NIGHT

AMBROSIO is in a phone booth holding several Chihuahua-and-sombrero calling cards in one hand. He speaks to his AGENT in SPANISH.

His magician’s trunk, suitcase, and tuxedo bag are neatly stacked within sight, though he is wearing the tux. His face is unbruised and clean-shaven.

AMBROSIO

So, what then? No retainer? No--

(pause)

No, no door take, either? In the contract--

(pause)

I know you said there no longer is a door. How the fuck does a fireworks convention burn down a conference hall?

(pause)

Fireworks, huh? Fuck. Okay, well, so how are we doing? Financially?

(pause)

Yes, really? Okay, well, that is a lot better than I thought. No, okay, okay. Anyways, how are you? How are you doing?

(pause)

Yes, really? Funny. And El Topo?

(pause)

Okay, good, but do not overfeed him otherwise he will shit all over my apartment, alright? I know you know, but I’m reminding you: A bowl a day, do not overfeed him! He’s old and stupid.

(pause)

Okay, so anyways, the new tickets are still under my name?

(pause)

Fine, I will wait here then. What am I gonna do? Did I get any messages?

(pause)

Yeah. Yes, okay. That’s okay. Anyone else?

(long pause)

My sister? Really?

(long pause)

No, I haven’t seen her in person in ten years. More. I mean--

(pause)

1 INT – TRAIN DEPOT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO (CONT’D)

No, I talk to her here and there, but, you know. She lives up north. So, what? What did she want?

(pause)

What kind of favor, a fucking money favor, or, what?

2 INT – TRAIN DEPOT BATHROOM - NIGHT

CUT TO: AMBROSIO drags his things into the filthy bathroom and finds the least offensive stall.

AMBROSIO (V/O)

Are you kidding? What else did she say?

(long pause)

Well, did she leave a number, or? Just give it to me, I will talk to her. I will talk to her. No! I will talk to her! Fucking family, right?

AMBROSIO realizes there is no toilet paper in the

dispenser. Just above the empty dispenser is a crude cartoon of a man being sodomized and the words: “Rectum? Damn near killed him!”

A MAN in the next stall laughs wildly at an unheard joke. In the distance, a JANITOR argues loudly with his girlfriend on the phone.

FADE TO BLACK

3 EXT – HIGH SCHOOL - DAY

The 3 o’clock bell sounds at a nondescript public school in the American Southwest. Like a hundred other teenagers, ESTER BOLAÑOS bursts through the front doors, eager to escape.

Sixteen years old, tattered jeans, cowboy shirt, black Chuck Taylors. Her hair is in pigtails that rest on each shoulder. Braces. She’s holding a paperback.

She reaches the bike racks. She spots her ratty-yet-functional 10-speed, unlocks it, and straddles it.

3 EXT – HIGH SCHOOL – DAY (CONT’D)

Like magic, she produces a cigarette from one shirtsleeve. Like magic, she strikes a match and lights up. She scopes the parking lot.

She produces gangster-ass shades from her bosom, puts them on, takes a drag, sniffles.

ESTER slips Glen David Gold’s Carter Beats the Devil into her shoulder bag and rides away.

4 EXT – DREAM SEQUENCE - DAY

Lost in thought, ESTER begins to visualize some of her elaborate, unspoken DEATH FANTASIES.

She sees herself driving off of a jagged cliff, landing in the ocean to an awaiting shark, riding onto shore only to be mauled by tigers, escaping but being struck by a runaway Karmann Ghia, flipping over and encountering the spray of a Nazi flamethrower, brushing off the ashes then riding through a snake patch, bee swarm, and Native American battlefield.

Nothing stops her. As she approaches her home, she side-saddles the bike, leaps off and lets it crash into the ragged bushes next to the garage.

ESTER runs inside.

5 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY

She zips past her 8 year-old brother, OSCAR (in his Karate uniform) organizing his baseball card collection in the middle of the living room. On the television:

NEWS ANCHOR

… “America’s Magician” Mason Blaze is holding a press conference for his upcoming magic special at Mt. Rushmore…

He doesn’t notice her. ESTER’S mother, MARTA (40’s, obese, cat sweater, leggings) is barely visible in the kitchen. The entire home is cluttered, almost floor to ceiling, with a lifetime’s worth of worthless things.

5 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER disappears upstairs.

6 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE - ESTER’S ROOM – DAY

ESTER tosses the shoulder bag on the floor and kicks her shoes off. She immediately turns on the portable

AM radio/tape recorder on her desk. It produces faint STATIC.

She sits on the edge of her bed and sighs.

FADE TO BLACK

7 INT – ESTER’S ROOM - NIGHT

There’s an Audobon-esque painting of an elephant fighting two alligators above her bed.

Next to her bed is a small bookshelf of labeled, organized cassette tapes, and above these a small photo of Mexican actress KATY JURADO in a frame next to a religious candle. There is a homemade record player on the dresser, too.

Despite the amount of old records, books, and photos, her room is actually perfectly organized.

ESTER, now sitting Indian-style in the center of her bed, carefully adjusts the AM signal of the radio now in her lap.

A face appears in the window. Her boyfriend CLINT- a scrawny, handsome skater-type. Out of routine, he climbs in. ESTER barely even notices as he drops his backpack and begins to undress behind her.

Something comes through. Barely audible, it’s an ancient recording of LYDIA MENDOZA. ESTER presses record.

He sits near her and puts his hand on her thigh while she listens.

7 INT – ESTER’S ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

CUT TO:

CLINT’S head is between her legs. She giggles. Her exposed shoulder reveals a crude Alfred E. Neuman tattoo. He works his way up and tries to kiss her. She pushes his mouth away gently.

ESTER

Don’t.

CLINT

Why not?

ESTER

It’s gross.

CLINT

What? I thought--

CUT TO:

ESTER leaps up and down on the bed. CLINT is absent.

CUT TO:

CLINT watches “Cops” on mute. ESTER lies next to him and listens to the radio as a CONJUNTO plays.

CLINT

Do you understand what they’re singing?

ESTER

Yes. No. Maybe. Parts.

A BARCLAY RIZVI commercial announcing his upcoming “Healing is Believing” motivational seminar in Boca Raton, Florida comes on the television.

CLINT

There’s that asshole your mom’s in love with. She’s fucking nuts.

ESTER

(stares him down)

Fuck you! She’s my mom.

7 INT – ESTER’S ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

CLINT reaches over into his bag and pulls out a bottle of pills. He takes one and returns his attention to the TV.

ESTER eyes at him until he gives her one.

CUT TO:

CLINT lies on his side beside her.

CLINT

Do you love me?

ESTER, on her back, sighs. The radio plays.

CLINT

What? Why can’t you answer that? You love those records, right? And all your old photos and junk. And that radio, right?

ESTER looks at him.

ESTER

Now’s not the time to be cavalier.

She raises the volume slightly and faces the other direction.

CLINT

Where do you think the station comes from?

ESTER is oblivious.

CUT TO:

CLINT stops for a moment and looks at ESTER as he exits via the window.

ESTER

So.

CLINT

What?

She stares at him.

7 INT – ESTER’S ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

CLINT

Oh, right.

He reaches in his pocket and hands her a pill bottle. She hands him his Union Jack skateboard.

CLINT

I’m glad we could have this talk.

CLINT climbs down the side of the house.

ESTER watches him skate away.

8 INT – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT

ESTER walks in front of her mother, stops to kiss her forehead, and plops down beside her.

MARTA is staring at the TV: RIZVI is playing golf, then reading a book to bored school children, then hunting ducks, then standing at an elegant balcony and waving benevolently over an immense congregation.

RIZVI

… Tenet #5: Live your “Now-Moments” fully, because you’ve earned them! Tenet #6: Shame is the chaperone of weakness. Tenet #7…

9 INT – MARTA’S ROOM – NIGHT

MARTA sits in front of the mirror while ESTER braids her long, salt-and-pepper hair. MARTA has a patch of white above her left temple, just like AMBROSIO.

MARTA

Did you look at those college prep books I bought for you?

ESTER

Nope.

ESTER finishes and looks at their reflection.

ESTER

You look pretty.

9 INT – MARTA’S ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

She’s not kidding. MARTA smiles.

OSCAR watches a ultra-violent cartoon behind them.

FADE TO BLACK

10 INT – CLASSROOM – DAY

A motivational poster of a poorly illustrated comet in space (“HITCH YOUR DREAMS TO A SHOOTING STAR!”) clings to a wood panel wall. A STUDENT in the back row stares uncomfortably at his CLASSMATE. Yellowing American flag on a pole. ESTER draws in her sketchpad.

MR. DIXON is oblivious-by-choice to his students’ lack of attention. Most are lost causes, anyway.

Late 30’s and almost good-looking despite the flimsy toupee. Bristly goatee, slender. He performs a series of hamstring exercises behind the podium.

DIXON

Malevolent. Malevolent. Malevolent.

(pause)

Come on, you guys. You know this. Any guesses? Anyone?

ESTER glances up briefly, clears her throat loudly, and goes back to her sketch.

JAMAL

Evil?

DIXON

Right, good, close, Jamal. Except malevolent implies a willingness, or a strategy or purpose, in causing destruction. Evil, well, that’s just…

(looking towards ESTER)
How’s it going, Ms. Bolaños?

ESTER doesn’t move a muscle.

10 INT – CLASSROOM – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER

(to herself)

Bayonets, or no?

Her sketch of a man standing before a firing squad is coming along nicely.

DIXON

After class, madam.

ESTER apes DIXON out of his view. She looks to her left, past the COUPLE canoodling, and out the window onto a sidewalk-lined soccer field.

A YOUNG BOY uses a remote control helicopter to torment an OBESE MAN passing by in a motorized wheelchair.

The bell rings. DIXON puts his wrists together, then pulls them apart as if breaking unseen shackles.

DIXON

Manumit!

EVERYONE bails.

FADE TO:

ESTER leans back in her chair. DIXON puts a copy of The Stranger on her desk.

DIXON

I expect more out of you.

ESTER gives a “Go on” look.

DIXON

(nodding at book)

Pretty heavy stuff, don’t you think?

ESTER

I guess.

DIXON

You don’t think so?

10 INT – CLASSROOM – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER

I mean, I’m not really sure what you mean by

heavy. It isn’t exactly a petting zoo, but, you know. It’s cool.

DIXON

Did you just start reading it?

ESTER

This is my third time, actually

DIXON begins to undo his pants and slides them off as he talks.

ESTER does her best to look away.

DIXON

Then you do realize it’s about the senseless murder of an Arab man? And the tortured inner monologue about how nothing matters--

ESTER

Sure. I get all that. But there’s more to it, I think.

DIXON

Is that so?

He unbuttons his shirt.

ESTER

I think it’s supposed to be a comedy. Like an old Peter Sellers movie, or something.

DIXON waits for her punch-line. It never arrives.

As he removes his shirt, the yellow-and-black spandex cycling uniform hidden beneath is fully revealed.

ESTER

Yeah, there are tons of really funny parts. Like when his girlfriend comes to visit him at the jail and all the prisoners are sitting on one side of the visiting area and all the visitors are sitting on the other

10 INT – CLASSROOM – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER (CONT’D)

side and everyone’s shouting across the room at each other. And, of course, everyone in there is Arab so they’re all shouting in Arabic or whatever and there are these two white people in the middle of it all

having a big, important conversation in the middle of this super absurd situation.

DIXON

I hate to break it to you, but I’m not sure your reading of Camus is kinda whack. Existentialism is futility. The opening, for example, when he says he can’t remember if his mother died that day or the day before. I mean, wow! Such alienation. Such distance.

ESTER

It was written in the 1940’s. He didn’t know when his mother died because he got a telegram from somewhere out who-knows-where

that said, “Your mother died today,” but he didn’t know when the message was sent. That wasn’t making any kind of statement at all except maybe that telegrams are a shitty way to communicate.

DIXON smiles, looks back at the clock, then back at her.

DIXON

Are you getting home okay?

Just outside the classroom door, head custodian MR. BARAJAS has stopped mopping to stare at their conversation through the narrow window in the door.

They look back at him.

ESTER

I rode my bike.

DIXON

Me too.

11 EXT – HIGH SCHOOL – DAY

DIXON walks his yellow-and-black carbon-fiber road bike alongside ESTER towards the bike racks.

DIXON

Your attendance is atrocious, Ms. Bolaños.

ESTER

Do you want to be here?

DIXON

I do, actually.

She gets to her bike and searches her enormous bundle of keys for the one that unlocks it.

DIXON

Whoa! Fantastic 10-speed. A 70’s Peugeot? Right? Awesome! Fairly rare around here. You

know they don’t even make these anymore? It’s vintage!

ESTER

Oh yeah? My friend’s cousin gave it to me, but I’m not sure if he’s vintage or not.

DIXON

Nice! What do you think of the ”Killer Bee” here?

ESTER

It hurts my eyes.

DIXON

Yeah, that’s the clearcoat. Three grand, on a teacher’s salary, mind you. But sometimes you just gotta say, “What the fuck?”

ESTER looks puzzled.

ESTER

What the fuck?

DIXON

Exactly. So, Camus.

11 EXT – HIGH SCHOOL – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER

Yes.

DIXON

“The Stranger.”

ESTER

Helluva read.

DIXON

Right. Well, I think you should save the art for Mrs. Dietz’s class, okay?

ESTER

Yeah. Maybe. I better get going.

DIXON

Yeah. Okay, kiddo. I’ll see you tomorrow.

DIXON watches her gather her things and split. He adjusts his helmet and goggles. He spits on the ground.

OFFICER GRIPPO is in his patrol car across the street watching her through binoculars.

DIXON rides away in the opposite direction.

12 EXT – STREET – DAY

ESTER waits impatiently for a train at a crossing.

13 EXT – CIVIC CENTER – DAY

ESTER crosses the parking lot as the people begin to stream out. They are finely dressed and all smiles.

She rides past a PONY-TAILED PROTESTOR wearing a sandwich board proclaiming RIZVI a “SHILL FOR BIG PHARMACEUTICAL” and handing out flyers.

Ester comes to rest near the sidewalk where she spots OSCAR drop-kicking his way through the crowd.

13 EXT – CIVIC CENTER – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER overlooks the crowd and spots MARTA chatting it up with a buff-looking guy with a greasy comb-over. CESAR is in his mid-40’s and looks like he either just went, or is about to go, golfing.

ESTER watches their conversation from afar. Finally, MARTA realizes she’s being watched, gives CESAR a friendly hug, and walks towards ESTER.

OSCAR torments OLD WOMEN in the BG.

ESTER hops on the saddle as MARTA reaches her.

ESTER

Is that my new dad?

MARTA

Don’t be a jerk.

ESTER

What?

MARTA

What?

ESTER

Nothing.

(looking at her shoes)

He’s weird.

MARTA

Who isn’t weird to you, Ester? Well, you want to come to Mr. Gattis’ with us? You can put your bike in the truck.

ESTER

Maybe. No. I’m not hungry.

MARTA

You need to eat, Ester.

ESTER

Nah, I’m gonna ride by Clint’s for a little while and watch a movie or something. I can eat there.

13 EXT – CIVIC CENTER – DAY (CONT’D)

MARTA

Well, I’ll put the leftovers in the fridge for when you get in.

ESTER

Okay, thanks.

She spots OSCAR harassing a crowd of women.

ESTER

(at the top of her lungs)

Oscar! Quit screwing around!

OSCAR hustles over, leaps, and clings onto MARTA, almost knocking her down.

MARTA

Niño! Qué te pasa?

MARTA and OSCAR watch ESTER ride away.

14 EXT – STREET – DAY

The sun is slowly setting. ESTER rides down the median of a neighborhood street listening to the AM radio in her bike basket. The signal is loud and clear.

She passes a cop, OFFICER GRIPPO, at an intersection. GRIPPO takes the turn and closely tails ESTER.

After a few moments, the loudspeaker crackles to life:

GRIPPO

You, ma’am. On the bike. I’m gonna need you to pull over.

ESTER looks back and continues riding. GRIPPO nudges her rear wheel with the patrol car. She pulls over.

GRIPPO takes his sweet time approaching her.

GRIPPO

Mind turning off the ghetto-blaster?

14 EXT – STREET – DAY (CONT’D)

She does.

ESTER

So.

GRIPPO looks around, then leans into her.

GRIPPO

Are you free tonight?

ESTER

Yeah. For a little while.

GRIPPO

I’ll meet you in 20 minutes.

ESTER

Okay.

15 INT – MR. GATTIS’ PIZZA - DAY

Outside, CESAR’S lifted Ford F-350 (KC lights and all) is parked right next to MARTA’S tiny Nissan single-cab.

Mr. Gattis’is sort of a low-rent Chuck E. Cheese. It’s about a quarter occupied. Underage WAITRESSES mill about, adorned with fake whiskers and rattails. One flirts with a BUSBOY who’s rolling a joint in plain sight.

OSCAR is lying across MARTA’S lap, staring up at his mother’s giant bosom. They sit at a window table.

MARTA stares at CESAR and stirs her Diet Cherry Coke.

MARTA

Thank you for inviting us to pizza. We love it here. It’s a shame Ester couldn’t come. I’d really like for her to talk with you.

CESAR is struggling with a cobweb of cheese. He bites and smiles half-heartedly.

15 INT – MR. GATTIS’ PIZZA – DAY (CONT’D)

CESAR

The Rizvi Corporation is, above all, a family. And families need to engage in fellowship with one another.

MARTA smiles wide.

CESAR

(chewing)

I just hope that Ester doesn’t fall by the wayside. Doesn’t succumb to The Triad of Pitfalls.

MARTA

Apathy, Anger, and—

CESAR

Delusion.

MARTA

Right, right!

CESAR

It’s just that she hasn’t really been as active in the youth outreach group as much as we’d like to see. Not at all, in fact. I’m concerned about her target productivity level, is all.

MARTA

I know! Me too!

CESAR’S phone rings. He looks at the caller-id, smiles, and answers excitedly.

CESAR

Why, hello there! What? Oh, you’re funny.

(pause)

Yeah, it’s over, I’m just at Mr. Gatti’s with a friend from the Organization.

(pause)

No. No. You’re funny! Come by! It’s the one- Get out! Really? That is just too funny!

(pause)

Yeah of course! You not interrupting anything. Absolutely. Come on by!

15 INT – MR. GATTIS’ PIZZA – DAY (CONT’D)

CESAR (CONT’D)

(pause)

Okay! Oh, you’re so funny! See you!

He hangs up the phone, sighs, and keeps smiling. MARTA looks a little concerned.

MARTA

Is someone joining us?

CESAR

Yeah. My friend Claudia. She just got back from a Convergence of Clarity event in Singapore. She’s too funny. You’ll love her.

MARTA half-smiles.

16 EXT – MR. GATTIS’ PIZZA - NIGHT

A yellow Mazda Miata is now parked askew on the other side of the F-350.

CLAUDIA, a pretty little firecracker, bursts into the pizza joint with her arms in the air. CESAR leaps to meet her.

MARTA watches. OSCAR’s head pops up from under the table.

CLAUDIA

It smells like a racquetball court in here.

CESAR

Oh, that’s so funny!

17 INT - MR. GATTI’S – NIGHT

CLAUDIA talks rapidly with wild gestures. She nibbles on a salad. CESAR is eating up every word.

MARTA slices pizza for OSCAR and smiles politely.

The WORKERS behind them are officially in shut-down mode.

18 EXT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – NIGHT

The prowler is parked in the driveway. ESTER parks her bike on the porch and walks in the house.

19 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – NIGHT

ESTER leaves her bag and radio by the door and walks
through the dining room and into the kitchen. Food is warming on the stove.

She walks down the hallway. Water runs in the bathtub.

She walks back into the kitchen, grabs a beer out of the fridge, and walks back down the hall. The water stops running.

She takes a swig, approaches the bathroom door, and cautiously opens it.

GRIPPO is in his uniform bottom, shirtless, and barefoot. He’s pudgy but muscular, and clean-cut. “GRIPPO” is tattooed in Old English across his shoulders.

He gently guides his elderly mother, ZERAPITA, into the tub. She is nude. The onset of dementia has rendered her speechless and emotionless.

ESTER watches.

ESTER

How is she today?

GRIPPO

She’s okay. She wanted to take a bath, I think.

ESTER

Let me take over.

ESTER is handed a towel. ZERAPITA sits in the tub and stares into the water.

GRIPPO gets up and walks to the kitchen.

19 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – NIGHT (CONT’D)

He checks on the food then walks into a living room and flips the lights on.

20 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

GRIPPO is listening to a record and painting a small figurine. His workbench is cluttered with books, manuals, paints, boxes, and assorted model-making tools.

Beyond that, occupying the majority of the room, is a model World War II battlefield complete with terrain, warships, downed planes, the works.

ESTER comes downstairs into the room.

ESTER

She’s in bed.

GRIPPO

Thanks. You want some food?

ESTER

No, I got food waiting at home. Thanks though. Can I get a couple beers for the road?

GRIPPO

Alright. You know where they are.

ESTER

What are you doing?

GRIPPO

(looks back through jeweler’s loop)

Painting Nazis.

ESTER disappears and comes back with her bag full of beer.

ESTER

Can I ask you something?

20 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

GRIPPO

Yeah.

ESTER

You know that AM station I like?

GRIPPO

The one no one listens to?

ESTER

Yeah. What do you know about it?

GRIPPO

There’s a book over by that box of spray cans. To your right, it has a red spine, says “Border Blasters.”

ESTER looks for and finds the book in question. She thumbs through it and sees photos of a Dr. John R. Brinkley, DJ’s, and the station in its heyday.

GRIPPO

Well, way-back-fuckin’-when, during the Great Depression, there was this snake-oil salesman named Dr. John Brinkley who made a goddamn fortune sewing goat balls on impotent men who wanted to, you know, have progeny.

ESTER

Really? Did that work?

GRIPPO

Couldn’t say. Brinkley was mental. Mental-mental. Real Howard Hughes-type, so his recordkeeping was sketchy, at best. He made a fortune, though, on the whole goat-balls thing. He built all kinds of weird shit. A boat that was too heavy to float, a bar that only he could drink at, a mansion with no windows, and a really powerful radio station. He had this deal going with the Mexican government. They allowed him to set up shop on their side of the border and

20 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

GRIPPO (CONT’D)

broadcast at whatever frequency he wanted so long as he paid them off. It ran like this for years. The station is the reason the Federal Communications Commission was established. It was so goddamn strong US soldiers stationed in Korea could hear it.

ESTER

Damn. So that’s the signal I’m hearing?

GRIPPO

Sorta. The guy eventually went completely broke and completely schizo and sold off all his property. The only thing left standing is part of the mansion and the radio station up on that hill along the highway. The signal isn’t that strong these days, of course. And no one knows who’s running it ‘cause it’s on Mexican property and no one ever complains about it ‘cause no one listens to it except you, probably. So, who cares?

ESTER

Can you, like, get out there?

GRIPPO

Sure, if you like hiking. The river’s pretty shallow down in that part of the border, so.

ESTER

Were you always this smart?

GRIPPO

When I was a kid, I could hold my breath for

five minutes.

ESTER

You off the next few days, huh?

GRIPPO

Yeah. Mind if I call? I probably won’t need to, but I may have a date.

20 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – LIVING ROOM – NIGHT (CONT’D)

ESTER

What are you gonna see? The World War II movie?

GRIPPO

With Harvey Keitel? Shit yeah! I’m taking Roger. We met at the gym.

ESTER

Oh, ok. Roger. I see.

ESTER laughs and walks upstairs. Shouting back:

ESTER

Mind if I pick up a few things from the shed?

GRIPPO

Yeah! Just lock up!

21 INT – MARTA’S TRUCK – NIGHT – MOVING

MARTA drives silently. OSCAR is asleep in the passenger’s seat. She listens to a shitty FM radio station.

22 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – TOOL SHED - NIGHT

The shed doors slide open.

ESTER puts her keychain away and pulls the light string.

She closes the door behind her.

Inside is GRIPPO’S personal stash. Racks of neat, wire mesh cages filled with contraband. Electronic equipment, narcotics, weapons, etc.

ESTER picks out some essentials: pot, cassette tapes, some 45rpm records.

She stops by a milk crate with a slick .22 resting on a neatly folded handkerchief. She stares.

22 INT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – TOOL SHED - NIGHT

CUT TO:

She’s locking up.

23 EXT – GRIPPO’S HOUSE – TOOL SHED - NIGHT

She rides away listening to the AM radio.

In the distance, the only illuminated object on the horizon is the tiny radio station.

24 EXT – ESTER’S HOUSE - NIGHT

MARTA has just pulled up.

MARTA

Go turn on the lights and run mommy’s bath, please.

MARTA waits for OSCAR to get in the house before she starts weeping. The radio plays.

She pounds on the steering wheel and sobs.

The pounding causes the radio to switch over from cassette player to AM.

BARCLAY RIZVI

Maybe it’s that cancer you thought was in remission. Or maybe it’s that back pain that just won’t go away. Or maybe it’s financial. These are troubled economic times we live in. Or maybe it’s emotional. The loss of a loved one. A difficult child. An unfaithful spouse. Whatever it is, Pastor Barclay Risvi is there for you. I am right there, in you. Inside of you. But he cannot begin the process of transvergence until you attend an officially sanctioned “Healing Is Believing” seminar. This year’s will be held in beautiful Boca Raton, Florida. For more information—

ESTER approaches in the background but hangs back long enough to watch MARTA dry her tears, lock up the car,

24 EXT – ESTER’S HOUSE – NIGHT (CONT’D)

and walk into the house.

25 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE - NIGHT

ESTER is halfway up the stairs when MARTA appears in a robe and towel at her bedroom door.

ESTER

You scared me.

She stares at ESTER.

ESTER

Is there any pizza left?

MARTA

Not tonight. Make a sandwich, okay?

ESTER walks to her room, looks back to see MARTA crawling into bed where OSCAR is already asleep.

FADE OUT

26 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE - DAY

MARTA, ESTER, and OSCAR eat breakfast. ESTER works on Ricky Jay’s Cards as Weapons, OSCAR plays with his generic version of Froot Loops, and MARTA holds a fancy-looking letter in one hand, smiling and reading its contents over and over.

RIZVI is on the nearby TV. The logo on his podium is the same logo on the open “Priority - Next Day Air” envelope next to MARTA.

MARTA

This is such an honor.

ESTER

Oh yeah?

MARTA

Not everyone gets to attend the seminars, you know.

26 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER

Only people who buy tickets, right?

MARTA

Not at the Platinum Level. We’re invitation only. Platinum Level is hand-picked.

ESTER

Doesn’t exposure to platinum give you cancer?

MARTA stares ESTER down. ESTER pokes at her plate.

MARTA

You know, maybe if you actually listened to what Dr. Rizvi had to say, you’d have more direction in life.

ESTER

The guy dresses like a real estate agent.

MARTA

Maybe you have some real estate in your heart that needs to be flipped.

ESTER

What the crap does that mean?

MARTA

Chapter 2 of “Emotional Real Estate.”

ESTER

Well, don’t expect me to go. Midterms are coming up, so I can’t.

MARTA

I know. I got in contact with your uncle. He’s going to be in town on business and he agreed to keep an eye on you while I’m gone.

ESTER is silent. Then:

ESTER

Isn’t he, like, a screw-up or something?

26 INT – ESTER’S HOUSE – DAY (CONT’D)

MARTA

He’s a magician, and there’s a difference.

(pause)

Well, aren’t you excited?

ESTER

I’ve never met him. Why should I be excited?

MARTA

He’s family, you have to be excited. That’s how it works. Besides, you might like him. He’s eccentric. All performers are. Also, I want you to get to know our side of the family a little more, just in case.

ESTER

Fine.

(pointing to OSCAR)

And this one?

MARTA

He’s my escort!

OSCAR spits out the multicolored mush in his mouth.

MARTA

That’s my boy.

27 INT – ESTER’S BATHROOM – DAY

She’s made a wall of mirrors above the sink out of a series of neatly mounted, stolen car rearview mirrors.

She pops a few pills in her mouth then brushes her teeth.

28 EXT – STREET - DAY

ESTER glides along the route to school, carefree. The RADIO plays a WASHINGTON PHILLIPS tune.

29 EXT – SCHOOL - DAY

She pulls up to school as a banner is strung above the main entrance: “AFTER-SCHOOL DANCE. TODAY!!!!”

30 INT – CLASSROOM - DAY

DIXON recites a passage from Henry Miller’s Air Conditioned Nightmare.

ESTER struggles to focus. Her head nods. DIXON glances at her, but says nothing.

31 INT – LADIES’ BATHROOM - DAY

She slips into the furthest stall and curls up across the toilet lid to sleep it off.

32 DREAM SEQUENCE

ESTER envisions herself behind a large desk in a giant office with hundreds of identical desks in neat rows all around her.

BEAUTIFUL SECRETARIES walk between the desks, delivering files, laughing, putting on make-up.

She goes to a window and instantly recognizes the structure in the distance: the Eiffel Tower. Paris is being occupied by toy Nazi tanks and toy Nazi infantry.

33 EXT – HIGH SCHOOL - DAY

ESTER comes-to amongst a group of FRIENDS. They are skipping class on a grassy hill nestled behind the school’s football stadium. Her eyes are heavy and she’s still sweating. Her pals are stoned and oblivious.

CLINT’S there. He shares a joint with SHELLY, a chubby, acne-scarred girl in a “Misfits” T-shirt.

At once, the group scatters when a SECURITY GUARD approaches from around the corner in a golf cart.

ESTER’S too slow on the draw and is the only one left on the scene when SECURITY OFFICER POLANCO arrives.

POLANCO, a butch lesbian, instructs her to get in the back of the cart. She grudgingly hops on and is nearly tossed off when POLANCO hits the gas.

34 INT - PLANTA’S OFFICE - DAY

The principal, DR. PLANTA, is ex-Air Force brass and dresses so. He has a lot of jewelry and a healthy Jheri curl. His office is covered with plaques, trophies, taxidermy, and even a photo of him golfing with George H.W. Bush. PLANTA is Dominican-American.

He cracks pecans by hand and dumps the shells in an ashtray that, engraved, reads “The Buck Stops Here.”

DIXON’S behind him, leaning against a bookshelf, looking heartbroken.

PLANTA stares at ESTER. She looks like a cat that’s been tossed into a bathtub of ice water.

PLANTA dumps a handful of shells in the ashtray, licks his fingers, clears his throat, and just as he opens his mouth, the bell rings.

35 EXT – GYMNASIUM - DAY

ESTER bursts through the double-doors leading towards the gym.

DIXON follows closely.

DIXON

It’s not about your smarts, Ester. But I can’t turn a blind eye to your truancy any longer.

ESTER ignores him.

DIXON

You’re brilliant, child. When you’re here. But I can’t lecture to an empty seat. You heard Dr. Planta. One more absence, one more, and you’re being expelled. And that’s that. You gotta go to class.

ESTER stops and turns.

DIXON

You gotta go to class.

35 EXT – GYMNASIUM – DAY (CONT’D)

ESTER

I give you my time. What else do you want?

ESTER walks into the gym.

36 INT – GYMNASIUM - DAY

The dance is underway. Clint Black’s “The Dance” plays.

ESTER tries hard to sober up, but she’s touch-and-go. Especially in a smelly, crowded gymnasium and definitely with an obnoxious light show going on.

The KIDS throughout the gym are clustered in distinct and scattered groups. There is a clearing at center court where someone, some LONELY SOUL, is actually dancing.

ESTER gets nauseated from the light show. She weaves through the crowd and finds a spot in the corner of the gym under the bleachers.

She takes a seat and catches her breath. She glances over at a COUPLE who, from their angle, can’t see her.

She can tell it’s a BOY and a GIRL, the GIRL on her knees in front of the boy. Near the BOY’S feet is a UNION JACK skateboard. The GIRL wears a “Misfits” T-shirt.

ESTER

So typically dangerous.

ESTER tilts her head back, then lurches forward to vomit. She empties her belly of narcotics and finally looks alert. She gets up and leaves.

ESTER

Man, fuck this.

ESTER, on her way out, spots the dancer at center court. She pauses and smiles.

36 INT – GYMNASIUM – DAY (CONT’D)

The lone dancer is O.P. JONES, a half-retarded deputy janitor. He dances his heart out, key ring jingling, while an enormous American flag dangles high overhead.

ESTER slips out of the gym.

37 EXT – HIGHWAY - NIGHT

Evening sets as ESTER books-it towards the radio station. Cars speed past her along the narrow highway leading to the station.

She gets as far as the highway will allow then she rides into the brush.

38 EXT - DESERT - NIGHT

The path is hospitable for a portion of the ride, but eventually the shrubbery becomes too thick and the terrain too uneven for her bike, which was not designed for such use. She hops off and walks it along.

Unable to go any further with bike, but with the station closer in sight than ever, she ditches her ride in a grove of trees and continues on foot. By now, the moon and stars are the only light source.

She crosses a trickling stream and now unknowingly stands on Mexican soil. There is no marker, simply a section of mangled barbed-wire fence she must step over. She continues her march.

She moves in a deliberate manner, as if the station is now also a tractor beam, guiding her by some unseen ray of energy and purpose.

The station is close, but high overhead on a hill that must be hiked.

She pauses. She looks around. A light twinkling through the brush about 75 yards away reveals a small group of IMMIGRANTS who have lit a fire to stay warm in the cold desert night.

38 EXT - DESERT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

ESTER studies them while catching her breath.

Several MEN, WOMEN, and CHILDREN sit in silence. ESTER is fascinated by a WOMAN breastfeeding her NEWBORN.

ESTER throws up again, then marches on.

39 EXT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT

ESTER reaches the summit and the station. She is winded. She leans against a ‘70’s teal-and-white Land Rover parked directly in front of the shack that serves as a radio station. She can hear the station’s signal playing qently from inside.

ESTER looks into the tiny room where the DJ normally sits. A small desk against the far wall is buried under magazines and newspapers.

Shelves brim with cassettes and records. A reel-to-reel machine supplies the pre-recorded show currently playing. An off-the-grid relic that hums along somehow. ESTER soaks it all in.

40 INT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT

ESTER steps inside and leaves her bag on a chair near the door, taking with her only a 45 record.

She approaches a shelf and thumbs through a row of tapes. She nods in agreement. She inspects the ancient equipment, LPs, 45’s, and cassettes.

She spots a clipboard that has a small pile of cocaine on it, and a plastic cup half-filled with ice and brandy. A MAN COUGHS.

She turns to find the DJ, in the doorway behind her. He holds her bag in one hand and the .22 she took from GRIPPO in the other. He is pointing it right at her.

He’s tan and lean, baby-faced, and has a long, thick mane of ultra-curly, ultra-dense blonde hair that reaches the middle of his back. He’s dressed kinda like Magnum P.I.

40 INT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT (CONT’D)

ESTER eyes him and doesn’t budge.

Well, well, well, well. I ain’t the type of fella who believes everything he reads, but this morning my horoscope mentioned something about being receptive to life’s mysterious mechanics. Or some shit like that. Ain’t you the bee’s knees?

He looks her up and down.

ESTER

Are you the DJ?

Is that why you came here?

ESTER

Are you the DJ or not?

Are you a music lover? A lover of music?

He drops her bag and takes a long drag from the half-smoked cigarette dangling from his lips. He closes one eye and aims at ESTER with the other.

What’s with this little conversation starter?

ESTER

I want to leave a record here. I want it in the rotation. That’s all.

You want? A request? No shit. Well, by God, put it in my inbox. It’s right over there.

She extends the record. He doesn’t take it.

He points to an actual inbox. There is, however, a comically large dildo made out of masking tape occupying it.

40 INT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT (CONT’D)

She leaves the record on the edge of the desk.

There’s no need for heavy artillery out here, dontcha know? These wets, they’re harmless. I leave ‘em water and blankets. They don’t know the value of any of this shit anyways. Hell, I could leave a Fabergé egg out here, they’d try to cook it. Nah, they’re good folk. Listen, you want a popsicle? I got a piece of shit icebox back there that’s just about broke down. The damn things are melting all over the place.

ESTER

I just want to drop off the record--

Hey, Calamity Jane! Fucking relax!

The DJ eyes her up and down again.

You’re cute. Turn around for me.

ESTER is more livid than scared. She grudgingly spins around.

Open your shirt.

ESTER

Fuck you, scumbag.

The DJ approaches by about 2 feet with his gun hand extended.

Thing about .22’s is that once the bullet goes in it rattles around instead of coming out the other side. Can you imagine that shit? In your head? What kinda goddamn monster would create such a device?

Furious, ESTER unbuttons her shirt. The DJ motions

40 INT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT (CONT’D)

with the gun to let her top drop. She lets it drop to her waist. He laughs. He drops her bag and pulls out a

pack of Famous Cigarillos from his shirt pocket. He lips one and tosses the pack onto a nearby cabinet.

Come on, sassy britches. We’re walking. Come on.

He orders her out of the shack and around back.

41 EXT – RADIO STATION – NIGHT

ESTER has finished buttoning her shirt. The DJ walks a few steps behind, whistling a Roger Miller tune from Disney’s “Robin Hood” as he lights the cigarette.

They walk down a steep path towards a well-lit opening in the brush. As they approach, it becomes clear that it is some kind of event.

42 EXT – ARENA – NIGHT

ESTER is unable to make any move except walk forward. The path is narrow and lined by a makeshift fence. The DJ would have a clean shot no matter what she did.

Closer now, the path reveals a homemade arena. Bleachers and food stands line a fenced-in ring in the center. It is, in fact, a cock-fighting ring.

The DJ grabs ESTER by the upper arm and forces her into a roped-off section near the front row.

It is his section, and the best seat in the house. In his section is an attractive TRANNY sitting next to a couple of RANCHERO-GANGSTER-types. Throughout the arena, about 50 people await the match.

When the trainers emerge holding the fighters, the joint goes ape-shit. Bets fly and everyone rushes the edge of the ring to scope the action.

The DJ takes his seat, leaving ESTER at his side. He leans over to the TRANNY, who sips on a Carta Blanca

42 EXT – ARENA – NIGHT (CONT’D)

caguama through a bendy straw.

Take Calamity Jane here to the border. She can walk her white ass home.

ESTER is startled when the DJ unexpetedly tosses her the gun.

Instinctively, ESTER catches it, aims, and fires. Dryfires, actually.

The DJ finds that very, very amusing. He takes a whiff from a vial of cocaine as the TRANNY takes ESTER by the arm and leads her back up the path.

43 INT – LAND ROVER – MOVING - NIGHT

The station on the hill is playing through the blown- out speakers. The TRANNY, assuming ESTER understands, speaks in SPANISH.

TRANNY

Then, I saved up for, like, seven months and got my tits done. That’s where, you know, you want to start. I mean, after the hormones and everything. Then I saved some more and got my lips, then I got my eyes lifted. Then I did my tits again because before they were silicone but now they’re saline which, I think, look better. Feel better. And I haven’t really done anything since then. Except, I had a little bit of liposuction, and I had my eyeliner tattooed on. You know. That’s about it.

44 EXT – BORDER - NIGHT

The TRANNY stops on the Mexican end of the bridge separating the two nations, busts a U, and throws the vehicle into park.

In her best ENGLISH:

44 EXT – BORDER – NIGHT (CONT’D)

TRANNY (CONT’D)

Is your name really Calamity Jane? Chido.

She hands ESTER a cigarette. She takes it.

ESTER sniffles, gathers her things, and hops out.

The Land Rover growls as it disappears back into México.

She begins her half-mile-long walk across the poorly lit bridge. It’s just about midnight.

FADE TO BLACK

THE

HISTORY

MAGIC

PART IV:

MINERVA

José

Luis

González

Jon C.

Holt

1 INT – APARTMENT – NIGHT

It’s a warm night in GUADALAJARA. A younger, leaner AMBROSIO sits across the small kitchen table from his wife, MINERVA. She is what, in olden days, would have been refered to as a “sparkplug.”

He’s down to slacks and a tanktop. Her dark blue dress clings to her body.

Their apartment is spacious and clean. Magic awards and memorabilia line the walls. They have several fans running and a window open. A puppy, a Chihuahua named “El Topo,” is asleep on the balcony.

AMBROSIO is dressing a cut across her left palm. They speak, of course, SPANISH.

MINERVA

You know how sometimes there’s a lot of stuff happening really fast and then it slows down just enough so you actually remember it?

AMBROSIO

Yeah.

MINERVA

Well, it was like that. Somehow I ended up at this swimming pool that all the neighborhood kids used to swim in. I was a little girl again, or I felt that way, but my body was grown up somehow… Anyway, I was in the shallow end of the pool and the water was all still and everything was quiet. It felt like something was going to happen, you know? And suddenly my Grandma was in the pool with me. I was so happy to see her. She was younger, like my age now, and her hair was up in a bun with one of those bathing caps. It was blue… so, we were just smiling at each other. I asked her what she was doing here, and I wanted to hug her, but for some reason I couldn’t, I remember that. So I ask her and she said something about losing something in the pool and she came to find it. Oh yeah, it was a broach, I think.

1 INT – APARTMENT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

MINERVA (CONT’D)

Or maybe a pendant… anyway, I got all giddy and excited, like a little girl does, and I wanted to have a tea party in the deep end. She said she couldn’t because she had roller skates on.

AMBROSIO laughs.

MINERVA

Yeah, real fancy one’s too. Like the shiny red kind, which is kind of funny now that I’m explaining it but it made me really sad in the dream. I felt bad for her somehow. And right when I was about to cry I heard all these kids around the pool, like they just suddenly appeared, and my Grandma wasn’t there anymore. They started jumping in the pool and the water was going all crazy like ocean sized waves, but I was big… hard to describe. Like my balance was being thrown off by the waves but I was looking down at them. It was the strangest thing. Does that make sense?

AMBROSIO

Yeah, I think I get it.

MINERVA

So, the water’s going all crazy, Grandma’s gone and I’m all big, and I look up and all the kids are standing outside the pool looking at me, giggling and pointing. And somehow I knew that I had grown a mustache, I felt it with my hand, and it felt like a mustache but when I touched it and looked at my hand it was ashes, like cigar ashes. I got all embarrassed, but I tried to act like it was normal that I had a mustache. I actually acted proud of it. That happened for a while, and the last thing I remember is seeing this drunk vaquero making his horse dance. And the kids were all cheering, and so was I, but I was cheering more because they weren’t looking at my mustache

1 INT – APARTMENT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

MINERVA (CONT’D)

anymore. Yeah, so, the last thing was that dancing horse. Weird, no?

AMBROSIO

Yeah.

MINERVA

So, what do you think?

AMBROSIO

What do I think? I think you should be more careful around knives.

He puts the first-aid supplies aside and reveals a deck of playing cards.

AMBROSIO

Ready to see this?

MINARVA

Show me while I smoke.

She goes to the balcony and he follows. She lights up as he shuffles the deck. She looks down to the street:

MINERVA

That fucking van has been down there almost every night this week. Some fat guy is always in it.

AMBROSIO

(absentmindedly)

Yeah?

MINERVA

Fucking wierdos. Oh, speaking of. Your sister called. Said it was your niece’s birthday and maybe you should send her something nice.

AMBROSIO

Shit. Like what?

1 INT – APARTMENT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

MINERVA

A magic kit or a book or something.

AMBROSIO

Yeah, maybe.

MINERVA

What’s your schtick going to be for this one?

AMBROSIO

Not sure yet.

MINERVA

That’s half the trick.

AMBROSIO

I know, I know. Just haven’t thought of anything yet. You know, you could always go back on tour with me.

MINERVA

Yeah, right. Your magic is here—

(holds hands out)

Not here.

(clutching her breasts)

AMBROSIO holds the fanned deck out.

AMBROSIO

Pick four cards at random. Don’t show them to me. Look at them, then hold them out in your hand.

She complies. The cards are all different. She shows El Topo, who looks up with one eye. She holds them out face down in one hand.

AMBROSIO

All aces, right?

MINERVA shakes her head. He takes the remaining deck and gently taps her four cards with it.

1 INT – APARTMENT – NIGHT (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO

Sure about that?

MINERVA smiles because she already knows that the four cards are now aces. She flips them.

MINERVA

That’s beautiful, baby.

They kiss.

MINERVA

Let’s pick up the receipts and go get a drink, no?

AMBROSIO

Excellent plan.

She tosses the cigarrette down to the street.

2 EXT – STREET – NIGHT

The street is fairly busy despite the late hour. MINERVA is lighting another Famous Cigarillo by the time she hits the sidewalk.

She spots the FAT GUY in the van and goes right up to his window.

She taps on it with her ring finger and gives him a “What-the-fuck?” look.

He starts the engine and slowly pulls away.

The street is narrow and old colonial buildings are nestled right up against grimy auto repair shops and boarded up homes.

AMBROSIO hails a cab.

3 INT – CAB - MOVING – NIGHT

MINERVA applies make-up with a compact. AMBROSIO stares out the window.

4 EXT – CAFÉ – NIGHT

This end of the city is quieter. Almost everything is shut down.

Our duo walks down the sidewalk, past a homeless man- JUAN CORBATAS. He wears a tattered business suit and dances to the music coming from a tiny radio sitting on the back of a car. He pretends the half-empty caguama in his hand is a mic.

He sings at MINERVA.

MINERVA

How does he do it?

AMBROSIO

Practice.

They turn the corner.

As they approach the café, MINERVA notices that roll-up gate is half-open.

MINERVA

Fuck. It’s probably stuck again. Can you get it, baby?

AMBROSIO

Yeah.

She bends down under the gate. The lights are still on and faint MUSIC escapes from the cafe.

AMBROSIO manipulates the chain mechanism.

From inside, a SHOT is fired.

AMBROSIO quickly bends down under the gate and enters. A beat passes and two more SHOTS are fired.

A BOY JUNKIE escapes from under the open gate and a moment later a GIRL JUNKIE follows.

Silence.

Eventually, JUAN CORBATAS shuffles around the corner.

4 EXT – CAFÉ – NIGHT (CONT’D)

He slowly approaches the café and crawls under the gate.

5 INT – CAFÉ - NIGHT

His investigating reveals THREE DEAD EMPLOYEES, including MINERVA. Unlike the two bound and gagged, she is lying right next to a badly wounded, barely concsious AMBROSIO.

MUSIC still plays on the jukebox.

FADE TO BLACK

THE

HISTORY

MAGIC

PART V:

THE HISTORY OF MAGIC

José

Luis

González

1 EXT – CEMETERY - DAY

A good-looking, only slightly disheveled CALL GIRL wakes up with a gasp. She is on a large, above-ground tomb. AMBROSIO, still asleep, is beside her.

She carefully removes his arm from across her waist, searches around, quietly gathers her purse and coat, takes her heels in hand, and makes a run for it.

AMBROSIO comes-to just in time to see her hopping the fence in the distance.

AMBROSIO is dazed. He notices that his left hand has a large, neat slice across the palm. He pulls a handkerchief from his coat pocket, which is connected to several others.

He bites through a length long enough to wrap around the wound.

His magician’s trunk, suitcase, and tuxedo bag are at the foot of the tomb. Also, a spent rig and burnt spoon sit nearby.

AMBROSIO

Wow.

He looks around. The only person in sight is an ELDERLY MAN doing Tai-Chi just beyond the perimeter of the cemetery.

AMBROSIO gets his belongings and heads for the fence.

The fence is tall. He tosses the suitcase and tuxedo bag over. He rolls his trunk up and uses it to climb up then straddle the fence. He has tied the remaining handkerchiefs to the trunk and uses them to pull it up and over.

He gently rests the trunk on the other side of the fence then uses it to step down safely. He undoes the handkerchiefs and gathers his things once more.

He sighs and looks directly at CAMERA:

1 EXT – CEMETERY – DAY (CONT’D)

AMBROSIO

(in SPANISH)

This won’t end well, will it?

He sneezes. He flags down a passing taxi.

2 INT – TAXI - MOVING - DAY

AMBROSIO lies across the back seat with his head leaning against the open window.

He skims throgh a flyer about BARCLAY RIZVI’S ties to big pharmacautical that someone left in the back seat.

The DRIVER, a hefty black fellow, is listening to the stereo at a level just barely considered loud.

AMBROSIO

Say, friend. Are you a fan of magic?

DRIVER

Magic? Man, motherfuck magic.

He turns the music up much louder.

3 EXT – ESTER’S HOUSE - DAY

AMBROSIO closes the trunk and the taxi pulls away. He checks the address written in a small notepad. He takes his things and approaches the door. He knocks.

ESTER answers the door. She stares, then:

ESTER

So. Are you my uncle?

AMBROSIO

Is that what your mother told you?

ESTER

I guess.

AMBROSIO

Then I guess I’m your uncle.