DETROIT ROCK CITY
Written by
Carl V Dupre
FADE IN:
INT. MRS. BRUCE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Decorated in Carol Brady chic. When it's not gaudy, tacky,
and loud, it's blander than toast. Colors like lime green
and sunshine orange should be reserved for popsicles only.
MRS. BRUCE, late 30's, enters looking exhausted. She carries
a glass of wine in one hand and a book in the other, Erma
Bombeck's The Grass Is Always Greener Over The Septic Tank.
HUMMING "We've Only Just Begun," Mrs. Bruce crouches next to
her wildly-ancient entertainment center complete with 8-track.
She flips the first record forward on her Ronco Record Mate.
Album after album flaps forward. Olivia Newton-John, Neil
Diamond, the Osmond Brothers. She stops on the Carpenters
and sighs at the serene cover art. Just what the doctor
ordered.
Placing the vinyl on the turntable, she CLICKS the dustcover
closed and FLICKS "Play." Reclining in her Lazyboy, she sips
her wine, opens the book and awaits the mellow tones of Karen
Carpenter.
Suddenly, her eardrums are hammered by machine gun GUITAR.
Caustic ROCK 'N' ROLL assaults her senses. She jumps, spilling
her wine all over herself. This isn't the Carpenters...
IT'S KISS!
Racing to the entertainment center, she turns the volume
control knob so violently, it comes off in her hand. The
music is even louder now.
Flustered by the awful noise, she tries lifting the dustcover.
It's stuck. She screams and covers her ears. This is Hell.
Running to the rear of the huge console, she stretches to
reach the plug, but can't. Fingertips millimeters away.
As the cacophony POUNDS she shakes the entire stereo with
all her frantic might.
SCREEEEEECH! The needle scrapes across the vinyl with a
shrill, finally coming to a stop. Whew, silence!
Then, POP, the dustcover opens unceremoniously. Shaken, she
grabs the record with trembling hands and reads the label...
KISS - LOVE GUN, SIDE TWO
Mrs. Bruce's blood boils.
MRS. BRUCE
KISS! The devil's music!
EXT. LEX'S HOUSE - NIGHT
A small, two-story house amid a suburban neighborhood of
other two-story houses. Uninspired architecture. Spindly
trees.
Two-car garage.
A faint yellow glow emanates from a cellar window across
which shadows frantically dart. Over the CRICKETS, we hear
MUFFLED, BADLY-RENDERED ROCK 'N' ROLL. SCRATCHY, GUTTURAL,
inhuman.
CAMERA MOVES to the cellar window. Inside we see four TEENAGE
BOYS who are to blame for the racket. Band practice.
INT. LEX'S BASEMENT/BEDROOM - NIGHT
An inner-sanctum of KISS devotion. Faux-wood paneling is
plastered with countless KISS posters, pictures, fold-outs.
The ceiling is wallpapered with more KISS posters. KISS dolls,
magazines, records, comic books clutter the shag-carpeted
floor. Fast food wrappers heap over the KISS garbage pail.
The four high schoolers rock their hearts out as they blast
a familiar tune offensively off-key.
BOYS SINGING
"I wanna rock 'n' roll all night and
party every day!"
They stink, but they sure are trying hard. Meet the band
"Mystery." Concert tee-shirts, holey jeans, total burn-outs.
HAWK, a scraggily-haired, disenchanted youth, strains his
vocal chords on the microphone as he SCRATCHES at his rhythm
guitar. Hawk is sort of the brains of this operation, but
knowing the others, that doesn't say much.
LEX POUNDS a bass with earnest determination. Lanky with bad
posture, Lex is already sporting worry lines. He takes
everything way-too-seriously.
TRIP STRUMS lead guitar like he's hammering nails. All id,
Trip is slightly out of his mind. But, is it the chemicals
or just his chemistry. He always wears a knit cap.
JAM, a sensitive kid (but no wuss), BASHES on his drums like
a madman making the bass drum pulsate like a spastic heart.
The big drum bears the word "Mystery" painted on its skin
with a lightning "S" just like the KISS logo.
They bring the classic tune to a shrieking conclusion and
thrust their hands over their heads in the KISS symbol.
Hawk screams into the mike at their imaginary audience.
HAWK
Thank you, Cleveland! You're a great
crowd. But after three and a half
hours of kick-ass rock and seven
encores on top of that, I'm sorry to
say that this time we really gotta
get back to our hotel rooms and fuck
some groupies.
Behind him, Trip grabs Lex's bass and swings it by the neck
at an amp pretending to bash it over and over again. Lex
quickly yanks it away from him.
LEX
What the fuck, Trip? That's my bass!
Jam emerges from behind the pile of drums smiling.
JAM
That was curly!
TRIP
Just one more day of school to get
through, girls, before tomorrow
night... Live!
(getting excited)
COBO Hall! Detroit, Michigan!
(like an announcer)
You wanted the best!
ALL FOUR BOYS
You got the best! The hottest band
in the world... KISS!!
They all make that BREATH SOUND that mimics a screaming crowd.
Suddenly, headlights swing by in the window above them like
a spotlight. Lex hops onto the unmade bed and looks out the
cellar window.
LEX'S POV
A baby-shit green, Ford station wagon with fake wood sides
SCREECHES into the driveway. Mrs. Bruce gets out and STOMPS
toward the house. Lex gasps at the sight.
LEX
Shit! It's Jam's mom!
Jam GULPS as if he's just shat out an whole can of Lincoln
logs.
JAM
My mom? Oh, no! What's she doing
here?
Lex quickly throws a KISS towel over a TV tray hiding a bong,
cigarettes, overloaded ashtray. Trip kicks half-empty beer
bottles under the bed. Hawk sprays Lysol frantically around
the room as Jam shovels gum into his mouth.
KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! Mrs. Bruce pounds on the cellar window
crouching to see in. She looks like a crazed, underlit psycho.
MRS. BRUCE
(muffled through glass)
Jeremiah! Jeremiah Bruce! You get
out here this instant!
The boys looks up like innocent, wide-eyed angels. Jam waves.
JAM
Oh, hi, mom.
MRS. BRUCE
(screams)
NOW!
Jam quickly pockets his drumsticks and grabs his worn, denim
jacket off the pile of jackets on the floor, then runs
upstairs. The others follow.
EXT. LEX'S HOUSE/FRONT PORCH - NIGHT
The front door opens. Jam steps out to greet his mom with a
nervous smile. Hawk, Lex, and Trip stand at a safe distance
in the foyer behind him.
JAM
What's up?
Mrs. Bruce grabs her son by the ear and holds up the KISS
LOVE GUN record waving it in his face.
MRS. BRUCE
The devil's body count, that's what's
up! Don't you know what KISS stands
for? "Knights in Satan's Service!"
She hauls Jam across the lawn. Hawk, Lex, and Trip step onto
the porch looking on in sympathetic embarrassment. Mrs. Bruce
stuffs the record in the trash can then throws Jam in the
front seat. SCREECH, the station wagon pulls away.
TRIP
Jam has yet to do an overnight with
us.
LEX
I had a nightmare once that something
like this might happen. I hope he
doesn't get grounded again. If he
misses Peter Criss's drum solo, I
don't know if he'll be able to handle
it.
HAWK
Lex, quit trying to always jinx
things. Don't worry, dudes. Nobody's
missing that concert tomorrow night.
MAIN TITLES
CLOSE-UP
The LOVE GUN album sitting in the trash can. CAMERA MOVES IN
on the round label till it FILLS THE FRAME. The record begins
to spin like on a turntable as CAMERA DESCENDS INTO the little
hole ENGULFING THE FRAME IN BLACK. This LEADS us INTO...
OPENING TITLE SEQUENCE
"ROCK 'N' ROLL ALL NITE" BLASTS the way it's supposed to
sound. The jammin' KISS classic is accompanied by a barrage
of QUICK CUTS depicting KISS mania. TV appearances. Concert
footage. Magazine covers. Comic Books. Posters. Art work.
KISS merchandise, dolls, lunch boxes, clothes, etc.
We see the BAND do their thing in authentic CLIPS FROM REAL
SHOWS. GENE, PAUL, ACE, AND PETER SHOUTING IT OUT LOUD.
The MONTAGE is a colorful, kick-ass kaleidoscope of the entire
KISS phenomena. CUT TO the BEAT of this seminal anthem.
The FINAL IMAGE is the KISS "DESTROYER" POSTER.
END CREDITS
TICKET CHECK
INT. JAM'S BEDROOM - DAY
The sun's early morning rays beam through the KISS "Destroyer"
poster taped onto a window shade. The phone RINGS. Jam bolts
upright, his profile blocking the poster. He has just awakened
under the only other decoration in his room: a crucifix.
Still dressed in last night's clothes, a plain black tee-
shirt and blue jeans, Jam leaps out of bed unwittingly
planting a foot in the handle of a Bullworker (a piece of
exercise equipment comprised of a powerful spring with two
handles on either end) whose other handle is stuck under one
of the bed's legs.
Jam runs to a phone on his dresser, drawing the Bullworker's
powerful springs out to maximum tension. No sooner does he
pick up, when he is yanked to the floor and dragged across
it as if tied to the bumper of a speeding car. Despite the
Bullworker pulling him back toward his bed, Jam does manage
to get the phone to his ear.
JAM
Hello?
The phone's cord stretches taut causing its cradle to leap
from the dresser and WHACK Jam on the head.
INT. LEX'S BASEMENT/BEDROOM - DAY
Hawk is on the phone as Lex and Trip scour every inch of the
cluttered room on their hands and knees searching frantically
for something.
HAWK
Jam, listen up.
JAM (O.S.)
Hawk?
HAWK
Just listen up, man, cause we are in
a quandary.
INT. JAM'S BEDROOM - DAY
Jam clutches the phone with his shoulder GRUNTING as he does
battle with the Bullworker for possession of his foot.
HAWK (O.S.)
Are you on the crapper with one of
those antenna phones? Sounds like
you're taking a dump the size of
Butte, Montana.
JAM
It's my Bullworker.
HAWK (O.S.)
Anyway, listen up. They're gone!
JAM
What's gone?
HAWK (O.S.)
The KISS tickets, you nimrod! They're
just fuckin' gone! Please tell me
you have'm!
JAM
(panicked)
Gone!? Why would I have the KISS
tick...?
HAWK (O.S.)
Just check whatever you were wearing
last night. Now!
Jam briefly scans his surroundings double-taking at the denim
jacket lying on the floor. He checks the pockets and sees
four tickets labelled KISS - JUNE 7, 1978 - COBO HALL,
DETROIT.
JAM
Whew! Oh, God, Hawk... I got'm!
Somehow I musta taken Trip's jacket
by mistake!
INT. LEX'S BASEMENT/BEDROOM - DAY
Hawk SIGHS like a deathrow convict pardoned at the last
second.
HAWK
(to others)
He's got'm!
Lex and Trip collapse with relief.
HAWK
Trip, he took your jacket by mistake.
You must be wearing Jam's.
Trip reaches in a breast pocket and pulls out Rosary beads.
Spooked, he drops them like they were a bug.
HAWK
(into phone)
Cool.
JAM (O.S.)
I'm really sorry about that, man.
HAWK
Don't be a fembot. So, are you like
grounded because of last night, or
what?
INT. JAM'S ROOM - DAY
JAM
Of course, but has that ever stopped
me before? Besides, my mom's going
to some church meeting and won't be
back till late. No sweat... See you
guys in school.
CLICK. DIAL TONE. Jam hangs up.
INT. LEX'S BASEMENT/BEDROOM - DAY
Lex buckles his belt with its huge KISS belt buckle.
LEX
Poor, Jam, man. Imagine having to
stash your KISS records inside Carly
Simon album covers. No question,
Mrs. Bruce is a psycho-bitch from
hell.
TRIP
You're one to talk, Lex. Your mom's
a fuckin' dyke.
Trip pockets his wallet which is affixed to a long chain
attached to a side belt loop.
LEX
Trip, a female gynecologist does not
a lesbian make. And even if it did,
at least my mom didn't give birth to
me while she was on LSD.
TRIP
Shrooms! And even if it was LSD, I
can still give my mom a kiss without
smelling the catch of the day.
HAWK
Both you assholes, SHADDAP!
Lex and Trip shaddap.
HAWK
Enough of the mom-bashing, all right?
Lex's mom is cool about us crashing
over here while she's out of town.
And if it weren't for Trip's mom, we
wouldn'ta smoked that fine Panama
Red last night. So leave the women
who gave you life out of it. They're
both cool.
Trip and Lex cease and desist the mom-bashing and continue
getting ready for school. Suddenly, Lex pushes Trip angrily.
LEX
Trip, you fuckin' asshole.
TRIP
What?
Lex points to a wet mess on the pillow.
LEX
You spilled my Sea Monkeys all over
the bed.
DRESSING UP
INT. JAM'S BEDROOM - DAY
Jam gives the Bullworker one final yank. This time it comes
loose... not from his foot, but from under the bed. Its handle
lashes up SLAPPING him across the face. Ouch.
Fully awake now, Jam throws on Trip's denim jacket. He stuffs
a drumstick into his left sock. We see "Mystery" written on
it. Just as he's about to stick the other one in his right
sock...
Without a second of warning, or even a knock, Mrs. Bruce
suddenly ENTERS. Immediately Jam stands.
MRS. BRUCE
Jeremiah, what are you doing?
JAM
Uhh... nothing.
She turns to his closet, the door blocking her view of the
KISS poster. Jam leaps to the window and yanks the "Destroyer"
shade. It shoots up, FLAPPING around its rod. He's done this
before.
Mrs. Bruce peeks at Jam from around his closet door. He
stretches in front of the window.
JAM
Ahh, sunshine.
MRS. BRUCE
You're going to be late if you don't
hurry up and change soon.
JAM
Change? What's wrong with what I got
on?
MRS. BRUCE
It's dirty laundry for one thing and
for another, you still haven't worn
the clothes I bought you. You're
skating on thin ice already, young
man, so I wouldn't push my luck. Now
get out of those rags.
JAM
But, mom!
MRS. BRUCE
Besides, those jeans are so tight I
can see your penis.
Jam reluctantly takes off the denim jacket as Mrs. Bruce
grabs the single drumstick from his hand and shakes it at
him.
MRS. BRUCE
Someday you'll see the futility in
forging a musical career with those
idiots.
She turns and rummages through the closet.
JAM
(to himself)
They're not idiots.
MRS. BRUCE
Now don't forget you're on the honor
system tonight. I'll be home a little
after one and if you've been partying
or playing that satanic KISS music...
well, need I remind you of the
consequences?
JAM
Grounded for the rest of the year?
MRS. BRUCE
You're a smart boy, Jeremiah. And so
handsome.
She pulls two Sears department store boxes from the closet
and lays them on the bed. Jam is visibly horrified.
THIS IS YOUR MOTHER! / THE GIRL'S ROOM
EXT. ROBERT F. KENNEDY HIGH - DAY
The suburban high school is teeming with morning activity.
School buses pull up to the curb. KIDS arrive in droves and
immediately find their cliques. The JOCKS and PRIMADONNAS
make up the popular crowd. There's DISCO DUDES, FRESHMEN who
look like grade schoolers, and GEEKS.
At the smoking section hang the BURNOUTS. Hawk, Trip, and
Lex stand amid the other long-hairs.
TRIP
School. What a fuckin' waste of time.
Two GIRLS with tons of make-up, hair so feathered it could
fly, and tight clothes, saunter by SNAPPING gum.
HAWK
Will somebody please tell those chicks
disco is dead.
LEX
Stellas. I hate stellas almost as
much as I hate dogs.
TRIP
Same species when you think about
it.
Their words say one thing, but their eyes say another. They
can't stop gawking at the chicks' asses. Girl #1 sneers back.
GIRL #1
Don't stare too long, you'll go blind.
The boys quickly cover.
LEX
(defensive)
Yeah, right. She wishes. Look at
that big ass.
TRIP
You know what they say about a big
ass... big shit.
They chuckle. Just then, Jam steps off a school bus in an
unbelievably geeky outfit, white corduroy slacks, plaid shirt
buttoned to the top, argyle socks and brown deck shoes.
TRIP
Hey, that dork looks just like Jam.
Hawk and Lex look and laugh when they see him.
LEX
Shit, that dork is Jam.
HAWK
(to Jam)
YO, DOOFUS!
Jam gives them the finger.
INT. SCHOOL LOCKER AREA - DAY
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam grab books from their lockers.
KISS stickers, photos, and rock magazine cut-outs line the
insides. Jam's locker door is covered with Peter Criss only.
TRIP
So, Jam, who did your wardrobe, Tad
the preppie sailboat captain?
JAM
Hey, my mom had me over a barrel,
all right. After last night, I had
to let her dress me today. It's a
give and take relationship.
LEX
Yeah, she gives you shit and you
take it.
HAWK
Okay, enough. Enough. Gimme the
tickets. I wanna hold onto them.
JAM
They're still at my house in Trip's
jacket.
HAWK
They're what?
JAM
She was standing right over me when
I was changing for fuck's sake.
TRIP
That's some sick shit right there.
Did she comb your ass hair for you
too?
LEX
If your mom so much as smells those
tickets, they're history, and we get
screwed outta seeing KISS for the
third year in a row, the third year!
JAM
Don't worry about it. They're
perfectly safe. We can pick them up
after school. My mom won't be home.
It's no problem.
HAWK
All right. After school we double-
time it to your house for the tix
before heading to the train station
for the 2:45 to Detroit Rock City.
JAM
Check.
The BELL RINGS.
HAWK
As they say in the Tampon biz, see
you next period.
SLAM! They shut their lockers in unison.
INT. STUDY HALL - DAY
The STUDY HALL TEACHER grades papers. On the wall a picture
of President Carter hangs next to Old Glory. The words "Be
Quiet" are written on the blackboard.
Students study, read, doodle, sleep. Jam is at his desk
touching up the word "Mystery" on his drumstick. Next to him
sits BETH. Quirky, but cute, she stares longingly at him
wanting to say something, but not having the guts.
Pleased with his work, Jam puts the drumsticks on the desk
and opens a Peter Criss album cover notebook depicting
countless doodles of the KISS logo, the Mystery logo, and
renderings of Peter Criss.
Beth SIGHS and opens her own notebook. Drawings of hearts
fill the pages. In them is written "Beth + Jeremiah" and "I
love Jeremiah."
Then, one of Jam's drumsticks rolls off the desk and onto
the floor. Beth quickly reaches down to grab it for him just
as he bends to get it too. THUD, they bash heads.
JAM
Oof!
(whispering)
Sorry.
Rubbing her head, she smiles and hands him the drumstick.
BETH
No problem.
JAM
Thanks.
He stuffs his drumsticks in his socks pulling his pantlegs
down. Jam and Beth stare at each other. There's a mutual
crush, but both are apprehensive about making the first move.
Both want to speak, neither does. They awkwardly go back to
their notebooks.
Mustering the nerve, Jam breaks the ice and whispers...
JAM
Beth?
Beth spins too quickly. Her pen flies out of her hand.
BETH
Yes?
BOINK! The pen hits Jam in the eye.
JAM
Ow!
Feeling awful, Beth moves in to help. The teacher looks up
sternly.
STUDY HALL TEACHER
Mr. Bruce, Miss Bumsteen, is there a
problem?
BETH
No. No problem.
Jam points to his eye.
JAM
Just a little pink eye. No reason to
panic.
Unamused, the teacher goes back to grading.
BETH
(whispering)
Sorry.
JAM
(handing back pen)
It's okay.
Beth resumes doodling feeling like an idiot. Jam does too.
Ah, teenage awkwardness. Finally, Beth musters up some
courage.
BETH
Jeremiah?
JAM
Yeah?
She hems and haw, then...
BETH
I wanted to tell you something...
I...
Suddenly, Beth is rudely interrupted by HIGH-PITCHED FEEDBACK
coming from the P.A. The PRINCIPAL'S VOICE ECHOES over it.
PRINCIPAL'S VOICE
Jeremiah Bruce, come to the office
immediately...
Jam throws a startled glance to the speaker as the class
sings in unison.
WHOLE CLASS
Oooo, you're in troubaaaallll.
PRINCIPAL'S VOICE
Your mother's here and would like to
see you right away...
More FEEDBACK as the mike on the other end changes hands.
MRS. BRUCE'S VOICE
Give me that microphone... Jeremiah,
you get your sorry self down to this
office, mister!
All the kids except for Beth burst into hysterical laughter.
Mrs. Bruce's tirade continues over QUICK SHOTS of...
INT. HAWK'S SCIENCE CLASS - DAY
Hawk sits at his lab table burning an eraser with his Bunsen
burner. His eyes widen with horror behind his goggles as the
other STUDENTS laugh till they hurt.
MRS. BRUCE'S VOICE
I found some things in the pockets
of your jacket while I was picking
up your disgusting laundry today...
INT. LEX'S GYM CLASS - DAY
Lex's eyes bug with terror. The basketball game is at a
standstill as everyone is crippled with laughter.
MRS. BRUCE'S VOICE
Cigarettes! Marijuana! Prophylactics!
INT. TRIP'S HEALTH CLASS - DAY
Trip dozes at his desk as an out-of-date film about VD
sputters on. The room is deafening with laughter. Then, as
if hit by a ton of bricks, Trip wakes up alarmed by the
familiar, shrilly voice.
MRS. BRUCE'S VOICE
And something much, much worse!
TRIP
Holy shit, my jacket!
4-WAY SPLIT SCREEN
We see Jam, Hawk, Lex, and Trip agog in dread.
MRS. BRUCE'S VOICE
If you know what's good for you,
you'll get down here... NOW!
INT. JAM'S STUDY HALL - DAY
Jam slowly sinks in his chair under the profoundly humiliating
weight of an ENTIRE SCHOOL'S ECHOED LAUGHTER.
INT. WAITING AREA - DAY
Mrs. Bruce sits next to a stand-up ashtray in the high
school's waiting area. Scowling, she fans the KISS tickets
out with one hand. Jam sits across from her, one leg jittering
anxiously.
They sit for an uncomfortably long time until... Mrs. Bruce
pulls a cigarette and lighter out of her purse.
MRS. BRUCE
I made an appointment with Father
Phillip McNulty at St. Bernard's.
We're to see him directly where he
will register you on the spot.
JAM
You mean, you're sending me to... b-
b-boarding school?
MRS. BRUCE
What else can I do? Oh, records and
magazines and comic books are one
thing, but tickets? TICKETS? Jeremiah,
do you realize what this means? That
you're no longer content merely
hearing their awful songs or looking
at photos of their horrific faces!
Now you want to see the devil in the
flesh. You want to reach out and
touch pure evil... and in Detroit no
less!
She flicks the lighter, not yet lighting the cigarette.
JAM
Mom, three of those tickets don't
even belong to me. They're for the
guys.
Mrs. Bruce holds the tickets over the lighter's flame.
MRS. BRUCE
And if the "guys" have parents who
truly love them, they will elevate
me to sainthood for getting rid of
these blasted things.
Mrs. Bruce lights her smoke with the flaming tickets, then
drops them in the ashtray where they burn for a cruel
eternity. Jam stares semi-catatonic through his mom's sour
expression.
MRS. BRUCE
It's been a long time coming, son,
but you're finally going to get the
kind of discipline you deserve.
She stands and pulls him out the front entrance by his arm.
REVERSE ANGLE ON NEARBY CORNER
Hawk, Trip, and Lex peek around it, their heads forming a
totem pole. One-by-one they pull back.
AROUND THE CORNER
They slump against the wall devastated.
LEX
I knew it! I knew this was gonna
happen! I had a bad feeling since
last night. Remember? We are so
totally fucked!
TRIP
Waitaminit, dudes! I got it! Maybe
we can glue the tickets back together!
HAWK
What are you, high?
TRIP
Yeah.
HAWK
For once Lex is right. It's over.
Things can't get any worse from here.
Suddenly, a caustic voice BLURTS from down the hall.
VOICE
I hope you rodents have hall passes!
The boys whip their heads around to see a potbellied, yellow-
toothed, security officer with long sideburns and slicked
back hair at the far end of the hall, fists on his hips.
Meet ELVIS.
LEX
Wanna bet.
ELVIS
Could that be three detentions I
smell?
Elvis laughs and breaks into a run barreling down on them
like a maniac. Keys JANGLING furiously.
HAWK
Second floor girls' john! Two minutes!
He'll never look there!
LEX
Check!
They take off in three different directions. Still laughing,
Elvis stops where the boys just were. Which one to follow?
He bolts after Hawk who has taken the nearest staircase.
INT./EXT. JAM'S STUDY HALL - DAY
Beth looks sadly out the window watching Mrs. Bruce push Jam
in the car. Beth puts her hand on the pane wanting to touch
him.
INT. STAIRWAY - DAY
Meanwhile, Elvis HUFFS and PUFFS up a flight of stairs
arriving at a set of swinging doors. He goes to push one in,
but it swings out at him with a vengeance knocking him
backward.
From behind it pops Hawk wielding a fire extinguisher. BLAST!
A hail of foam covers Elvis's face. Hawk shoves the
extinguisher into the man's arms and pushes Elvis backwards
down the stairs. He topples ass-over-head till he hits the
landing.
HAWK
You're way out of your league, Elvis.
Elvis rises and shakes the CO2 off like a wet dog. Looking
up, he sees the door gently swinging in and out. No sign of
Hawk.
INT. GIRLS' BATHROOM - DAY
Trip kicks a bathroom stall violently.
TRIP
Fuck! Shit!
Lex sits on the toilet in the stall.
LEX
Hey, take it easy, man. This is the
girls' crapper, remember?
TRIP
Wake up, Lex! We just watched Jam's
mom torch our fuckin' KISS tickets!
Not REO Speedwagon! Not Journey! Not
the Bay City Rollers! KISS! If you
can think of a better reason to trash
a bathroom, I'd sure like to hear
it!
LEX
Trip, it's not the end of the world,
okay? Quit acting all squeezed out.
Trip grabs Lex by the collar, yanks him off the toilet and
shoves him against the wall.
TRIP
Oh, everything's hunky-dory now that
the shit hit the fan just like you
said it would, you snug sonofabitch!
You fuckin' jinxed us!
LEX
Smug, Trip! Not snug, smug.
Hawk bursts into the bathroom.
HAWK
We're clear, dudes.
They run to exit. Hawk first. Suddenly, Hawk backs up again
into Trip and Lex as if a swarm of killer bees was out there.
HAWK
A skirt just came around the corner.
Hawk, Trip, and Lex run back and pile into the last stall.
All three stand on the toilet bracing their arms against the
walls for balance.
A FOXY GIRL hurries into the stall next to theirs. We see
the top halves of three heads peek over the stall's partition.
The three boys don't make a sound as they watch her sit down.
As she glances up, they recoil fast. They whisper super-quiet.
HAWK
That's Sherry VanHafton.
LEX
I've been in love with her since the
second grade.
Then, a SOUND OF TINKLING. They all throw their hands over
their mouths to stifle the giggles. Suddenly, POOT! She lets
out an ECHOED FART. The boys are awestruck.
HAWK
Whoa... she just farted.
LEX
I have never heard a girl squeeze
cheese in my entire life.
HAWK
Weird...
Pause.
TRIP
Peeeyeewww! That stinks!
Just then, the SOUND OF CRACKING PORCELAIN, as the toilet
they're standing on breaks into pieces with a SMASH. They
topple over pulling the stall walls down with them exposing
the foxy chick sitting on the can. Water GUSHES everywhere
as she screams bloody murder, getting doused ruining her
Farrah-do.
They bolt out the door slipping and sliding across the torrent
of toilet water. Lex turns and shrugs to the traumatized
girl.
LEX
Heh-heh, sorry.
He's gone.
CALLER 106 / ELVIS ATTACKS
INT. MRS. BRUCE'S CAR - DAY
Mrs. Bruce uses a finished cigarette to light another.
MRS. BRUCE
Someday you'll have a son just like
you, Jeremiah. A boy who lies through
his teeth, buys demonic records, and
smokes the dope just like you.
JAM
(numbly)
If I'm anything like you, I'll deserve
him.
MRS. BRUCE
What?!
JAM
I said, I'm sorry!
MRS. BRUCE
If you truly are sorry, son, then
you better pray like you've never
prayed before. God willed me to find
those tickets because He wanted to
hear from you. He knows you need
help and He wants you to ask Him for
it.
EXT. ST. BERNARD'S - DAY
Mrs. Bruce's car turns off the road and drives through an
imposing set of wrought iron gates. The sign reads: St.
Bernard's Veil of Tears. A School for Catholic Boys.
INT. MRS. BRUCE'S CAR - DAY
Jam looks at what lies ahead. His face becomes a mask of
pure terror. We hear a THUNDER CLAP as Jam puts his hands
together and closes his eyes humbling himself. He whispers.
JAM
Please, God, help.
EXT. ST. BERNARD'S - DAY
The car winds up the path leading to a dark, Gothic edifice
over which tumultuous storm clouds continuously hover. THUNDER
BELCHES and bolts of lightning shoot at the blackened
crucifixes along the structure. We hear a SCARY ORGAN theme.
INT. VOC/TECH DEPT. - DAY
Except for the tinkering NOISES that are heard as the STUDENTS
work on their projects, there is silence in Electronics Class.
The teacher, MR. JOHANSEN, sips from a coffee cup and reads
a newspaper, his feet on the desk. The headline says: "Mass
Suicide in Jonestown. Cyanide in the Kool-Aid." Above him is
a long banner reading: "Sorry, Absolutely no bathroom breaks".
Hawk, Trip, and Lex sit before a half-built radio on a work
bench, sheer desperation etched on their faces.
Lex solders two copper wires together. Hawk attaches a dial.
Trip absently plays with a squeeze pump attached to a long
plastic tube. He blows air into his face repeatedly with it.
TRIP
(re:squeeze pump/tube)
Wonder if you could smoke shit out
of this?
HAWK
Maybe some tunage'll chase those
blues away.
Hawk turns the radio on and a HIGH FREQUENCY WHINE pours
from its speaker. He adjusts the volume, then the tuner,
until a DJ's VOICE comes through crisp and clear.
DJ'S VOICE
...and this is Simple Simon on the
rock of Detroit, W.A.R.P., home of
the biggest KISS giveaway in the
history of the universe!
Detroit? DETROIT? Hawk, Trip, and Lex react like they've
just been hit by phasers on stun. God is intervening.
DJ'S VOICE
I got four, count 'em, four front
row tickets along with four backstage
passes to the concert tonight at
Cobo Hall and I'm giving them to the
106th caller who can tell me the
real names of each KISS band member!
HIGH FREQUENCY NOISES again, then the radio loses reception.
Hawk exchanges an anxious glance with Trip and Lex.
LEX
Too bad we're stuck in electronics
or...
HAWK
Never mind with the too bad shit. I
got a crazy plan, but only the
craziest among us can pull it off.
DISSOLVE TO: MOMENTS LATER
Mr. Johansen still sits with his feet up, reading. The next
page's headline reads: First Test Tube Baby Born.
Trip runs up to Mr. J's desk, one hand behind his back, the
other on his crotch. His face is drawn in an expression of
sheer agony. Hawk and Lex watch anxiously in the background.
MR.J
Mr. Verudi, get back to your bench.
Trip puts one leg over the other always keeping a hand behind
his back.
TRIP
But I gotta take a piss like you
would not believe, Mr. Johansen!
MR.J
Put a clothespin on it till the end
of class, Verudi. You know my rule.
TRIP
But ever since my doctor put me on
salt pills, it's been like Niagara
Falls every half hour! Please, Mr.
J! Have mercy!
Suddenly, a wet stain grows across the crotch of Trip's pants.
MR.J
Salt pills? Don't insult my
intelligence, Verudi...
Mr. J. stops when he sees the stain starting to spread.
TRIP
Jeezis, I'm taking a leak in my pants!
We now see Trip is squeezing the pump from before. He holds
it behind him feeding water into the tube running down the
back of his pants.
The stain travels fast, hitting Trip's knee in a nanosecond.
In a state of shock, Mr. J. slowly opens a long forgotten
drawer on his desk, finding a cobweb and dust-covered pad of
bathroom passes. He tears one off and dust flies everywhere.
He holds the pass out to Trip like it was a cross he was
holding before an advancing vampire.
MR.J
(hoarsely)
Get the hell out of here, Verudi!
You disgust me!
Hawk and Lex observe that Trip has been successful, then do
a Three Stooges-style handshake, whispering "Curly!"
INT. FRONT OFFICE - DAY
The SECRETARY sits at her desk in the reception area filing
paperwork. She pauses when she hears RUNNING FOOTSTEPS. Trip
charges past, a big, wet stain on his crotch.
The secretary notices the pump and tube flopping from the
back of his pants as Trip turns a corner.
INT. MAIN CORRIDOR - DAY
Trip runs up to a pay phone on the wall, pumps every nickel
he has into it, puts the phone to his ear and dials.
TRIP
I need to be connected to the W.A.R.P.
contest hotline... Now... lady!...
Hello, is this me? I'm Trip.
INT. SCHOOL SECURITY OFFICE - DAY
A cubby-of-an-office. Cluttered beyond belief. Elvis leans
back on his chair against the wall reading a PLOP Magazine.
A transistor radio plays W.A.R.P. He bolts at the sound of
Trip's name causing his chair to slide out from under him.
THWAM!
TRIP ON RADIO
Am I on the air?... Yeah... Gene
Klein, Stanley Eisen, Paul Frehley,
and Peter, uh, Criscoula... yeah,
that's it!
INT. FRONT OFFICE - DAY
The secretary hears an ecstatic "YEEEHAAWW" and turns to see
Trip wheeling back around the corner, leaping in the air as
he runs, YOWLING like a rodeo cowboy. He bounds past her.
She watches him and shakes her head.
SECRETARY
(to herself)
Moron.
INT. SECURITY OFFICE - DAY
Still on the floor, Elvis grabs the little radio with rage,
flips it off and screams at it.
ELVIS
Why you little...! Over my dead body!
The bell RINGS.
INT. HALLWAY OUTSIDE VOC/TECH ROOM - DAY
Students pour into the hall. Hawk and Lex exit the class
just as Trip comes zigzagging down the corridor dodging the
hordes. All three converge as Trip can't contain his
enthusiasm.
TRIP
I did it! I did it! We won!
LEX
We won?!
HAWK
Fuckin' A! Woooooo!
The three burnouts jump, scream, HOOT, and play air
instruments like loons as if they're the only ones in the
hall. They can't stop. The rest of the student body are not
amused
INT. CAFETERIA - DAY
Hawk, Trip, and Lex hold their trays over the counter as the
LUNCH LADIES fill them with Salisbury steak, hard dinner
rolls and scoops of bluish pudding. Ah, public school
nutrition.
TRIP
(stoked)
This is the best thing that ever
happened to me at school! Not only
are we on again for KISS in Detroit,
but we're actually sitting right at
the fifty yard line! I dare you dudes
to find a curlier scenario.
HAWK
(double stoked)
Stan Lee couldn't think of a better
one.
LEX
The Chinese have a proverb: "That
which appears too good to be true,
usually is." There's gotta be a catch.
TRIP
Yeah? I have a saying too, Lex. It
goes, "Catch my jizz in your mouth
and stop jinxing us, asshole." We're
going this time and that's all there
is to it.
HAWK
I'm afraid our constipated little
friend is right this time, Trip.
There is a catch.
Hawk's really got their attention now.
TRIP
Namely?
HAWK
Our band "Mystery" is a quartet and
we can't go on the road without our
drummer. Jam's mom said something
about sending him to St. Bernard's,
right? We gotta bust him out before
we go anywhere.
LEX
But... but, St. Bernard's is way the
hell over in the next county!
HAWK
So? Your mom's car has a CB, radar
detector and cruise control, check?
LEX
We are not stealing my mom's car.
HAWK
Damn straight we are.
LEX
Hawk, all I need is one ding on the
Volvo and presto! There are my balls
hanging from the rearview mirror
after she gets back from Cincinnati.
HAWK
And when is she due back from that
groinecologist's convention anyway?
LEX
Sunday, but...
HAWK
Then lighten up. She'll never know
we touched it. Alright, here's the
plan. We bus it to chez Lex, grab
the Volvo, bail Jam the hell outta
St. Bernard's and arrive at the train
station precisely on time for the
2:45 to Detroit.
TRIP
Simplicity, Hawk.
LEX
Simple-icity is more like it. And
you guys thought Jam was in trouble
before. Wait till Mrs. Bruce finds
out he went to that concert with us.
HAWK
There's only so much trouble an
individual can get into till it just
doesn't matter anymore, Lex. You
familiar with a condition known as
Absolute Zero?
LEX
The hypothetical temperature
characterized by the absence of heat
and even the slightest amount of
molecular activity? Yeah, I'm vaguely
familiar
HAWK
Well, Jam is in absolute trouble. He
couldn't get any deeper into shit if
he was a fly sitting in a horse's
ass. You know as well as me he'd
give his right arm just to see Peter
Criss's drum solo, never mind a whole
KISS concert, check?
Lex nods.
HAWK
Well, the least we, his only buds in
the world, can do is take him along
with us tonight and give him one
last curl before he starts serving
his sentence.
TRIP
Just for the record, I understood
the last part of what you said, but
for a while there you guys were making
no fucking sense whatsoever.
HAWK
I was just explaining to Lex here
what you and I already know. Just
had to make it a little more
complicated so he'd understand.
LEX
Very funny, Hawk. Okay, I'm in on
this hare-brained scheme, but if
anything happens to my mom's car,
I'm blaming you. I'll say you drugged
me or something.
HAWK
Curly.
Hawk scopes out the cafeteria to make sure the coast is clear.
HAWK
Ok, dudes, follow my lead.
LEX
Wait a minute. We ditching the rest
of school?
TRIP
About fuckin' time if you ask me.
I'm just going through the motions
till I drop out anyway.
LEX
Hello summer detention.
HAWK
As I was saying, follow my lead. And
maintain. Elvis just showed up.
Hawk points across the cafeteria and sure enough Elvis has
just entered. Luckily, he hasn't noticed the boys yet.
Elvis swaggers to a table of CHEERLEADERS, puts his leg on a
chair and starts a one-sided conversation with them. They
promptly push their trays away, having lost their appetites.
Meanwhile, back at the condiment tray, Hawk and Trip each
grab a big handful of ketchup packets and head to a table.
Lex reluctantly follows suit grabbing a big handful of ketchup
packets too. All three of them put their trays down and sit.
HAWK
(eyeing Elvis)
Five second rule, boys. See you on
the other side.
Hawk approaches the exit door, glances either way, then
leaves.
Trip and Lex look at their watches for five seconds. Then
Trip heads for the exit door also.
Lex still stares at his watch. After five, he looks at Elvis,
who stops talking to the cheerleaders. As if possessing some
sixth sense, Elvis turns quickly and looks STRAIGHT INTO
CAMERA.
ELVIS'S POV -- He spots the swinging exit door and an empty
table with three full lunch trays sitting on it.
ELVIS
Excuse me, ladies.
Relieved he's gone, the cheerleaders start eating again.
Elvis moves through the cafeteria in SLOW MOTION toward the
exit door. The hunter in action.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Elvis pushes through the door and into a hall, dead-eye stare
focused up ahead where the hallway turns sharply. He catches
a glimpse of Lex. Smiling like the devil, Elvis bolts.
INT. OTHER HALLWAY - DAY
Lex catches up with Hawk and Trip just as Elvis swings around
the corner and marauds after them CACKLING maniacally. A mad
chase ensues. Down hallways. Around corners. Upstairs. Down
ramps.
Hawk, Trip, and Lex scramble as fast as they can to escape
the clutches of their sideburn-clad nemesis.
As the boys pass a classroom, a NERD comes out pushing a
projector on an AV cart. Thinking fast, Hawk grabs it out of
the nerd's hands and pushes it down the hall at Elvis.
NERD
Hey, I'm responsible for that!
CRASH! Elvis bashes face-first into the rolling cart. He and
the projector go tumbling. Not wasting a second, Elvis is
back on his feet and after them again. The nerd grabs his
hair in horror at the sight of the smashed projector.
AROUND A CORNER
Elvis SKIDS around the corner and trips on a fire hose
stretched across the floor from its glass box to a water
fountain pipe. He slides on his belly along the polished
floor unable to stop.
INT. ENGLISH CLASS - DAY
Old MISS HIBBS is lecturing on MOBY DICK. The kids are dozing.
MISS HIBBS
Then a cry from the crow's nest...
"Thar she blows!"
Suddenly, a screaming Elvis slides into the open door on his
stomach and bowls Miss Hibbs over like a Brunswick. He clamors
to his feet and shoots out the room leaving everyone stunned.
INT. HALLWAY - DAY
Pausing at the corner, Elvis takes a breath and leaps around
it. He smiles at what he sees.
Up ahead, Hawk, Lex, and Trip stand on a 3-stair stoop,
desperately pulling at a locked door. Elvis smiles. They
GULP.
ELVIS
KISS concert? Kiss my ass morelike.
A nice, fat detention oughta put a
crimp in this evening's plans.
Elvis takes his key ring off his belt and begins twirling
it. The boys turn and face him. He savors the moment.
ELVIS
Looking for something, rodents?
HAWK
Yeah, Elvis...
Hawk's brow furrows as he pulls about fifty ketchup packets
out of his pocket. Trip and Lex do the same.
HAWK
..Your ass on a lunch tray.
Elvis laughs and lurches forward -- the boys' cue to drop
the ketchup packets at their feet and...
HAWK
On your marks and...
Trip and Lex ready themselves, then...
HAWK
Fire!
They start stomping on the packets, squirting Elvis's face
and torso with tomato-based condiment causing him to let out
a scream that lasts the rest of the scene. Ketchup spatters
across his body in SUPER SLOW MOTION. A shot hits him in the
mouth and he COUGHS it back out in mid-scream.
The boys stomp relentlessly, mercilessly, blasting their
nemesis with hideous cafeteria red as Elvis throws his arms
back, body quaking at every splat. It's kind of like the
scene in "The Godfather" where Sonny gets it.
Beaten and spent, his scream now dried up to a hoarse GASPING,
Elvis slips on some ketchup at his feet. He hits the floor
with a THUD right in the goop. He lays there letting out DRY
SOBS looking like a bunless wiener.
Hawk jumps off the stoop. Taking Elvis's key chain away, he
hops back up and unlocks the door letting Trip and Lex out.
Hawk whips the keys back at Elvis, hitting him in the head,
then flashes a pearly Error Flynn smile.
HAWK
Elvis, you ain't nothin' but a hot
dog.
Hawk bolts out the door. Elvis tries to get up only to slip
in the muck again and fall back down twice as hard.
ELVIS
Nooooo!!
JAILBREAK
EXT. STREET IN THE NEXT COUNTY - DAY
C/U on the grill of a moving car, Ohio vanity plate reading:
Ob-GYN.
PULL BACK to reveal it's on a brand spanking-new, brown Volvo
242 DL hauling ass. Hawk drives, Lex rides shotgun, and Trip
sits in the back, arms draped over the front seat.
EXT. ST. BERNARD'S - DAY
The Volvo turns and barrels up St. Bernard's gated entrance.
INT. VOLVO - DAY
TRIP
Well, here we are back at fucking
school again.
LEX
Huh. St. Bernard's. Figures it's
named after a canine.
Hawk and Trip roll their eyes.
INT. ST. BERNARD'S BOARDING SCHOOL - DAY
Mrs. Bruce and FATHER McNULTY stand outside his office. The
door is open a tad. Jam sits just beyond it, but all we see
are his corduroyed legs which shake. Jam is one nervous kid.
MRS. BRUCE
Again, many thanks and praise to you
for seeing Jeremiah on such short
notice.
Father McNulty has a look of utter compassion on his face.
FATHER MCNULTY
Anything for a potential tuition...
to be given to charity of course.
MRS. BRUCE
God bless you, Father McNulty.
FATHER MCNULTY
He already has.
They hug. She exits. And the look of utter compassion on
Father McNulty's face disappears.
INT. FATHER MCNULTY'S OFFICE - DAY
The priest enters, SLAMS the door shut, startling Jam, and
sits in front of a painting of the Virgin Mary on his wall.
The name plate on his desk reads: FR. PHILIP McNULTY.
FATHER MCNULTY
Before enrolling you, Jeremiah, let
me just say it would be greatly
appreciated if your career at St.
Bernard's was an uneventful one.
Some students believe they can get
expelled through disobedience and
recklessness. What they don't
understand is even after God's
vengeance is meted out, He forgives.
That His devastating anger is followed
by His nurturing compassion. In a
nutshell, St. Bernard's may punish
you even for the slightest digression,
but will never cast you out, even
for the largest. So here you are,
Jeremiah... here to stay!
Father McNulty sticks the pencil into an electric pencil
sharpener and it makes the same NOISE a DENTIST'S DRILL does
when burrowing into a molar. Jam shudders.
The Father removes the pencil and blows the shavings away
from the needle-sharp tip.
FATHER MCNULTY
Let's begin the enrollment, shall
we?
EXT. ST. BERNARD'S - DAY
Mrs. Bruce exits the building and approaches her car. She
stops when she sees the '78 brown Volvo parked behind her.
It's empty. She shrugs and gets into her car, driving off.
Inside the Volvo Hawk, Trip, and Lex poke their heads up.
The coast is clear so they can sit straight again. They stare
up at a second story window where they see part of Jam's
profile.
LEX
Now, how are we gonna do this?
HAWK
Gimme a second, dudes. Lemme think.
They hear an ENGINE and turn to see a delivery truck labelled
PIZZA PIG parking behind them. A DELIVERY BOY holding a pizza
box steps out. Trip's mouth waters.
TRIP
(licking his chops)
Mmm, pizza...
Seeing the boys, the delivery boy stops at the Volvo.
DELIVERY BOY
Hey, you guys know where...
(looks at slip on box)
Philip McNutly's office is?
Hawk, Trip, and Lex exchange an anxious glance, then Hawk
smiles. He is officially inspired as he turns to the boy.
HAWK
Yeah, I'm Philip McNutly.
INT. FATHER MCNULTY'S OFFICE - DAY
The Father TAPS his pencil looking impatiently at Jam who
has totally withdrawn. He sits motionless staring into space.
FATHER MCNULTY
Jeremiah, are you aware you need to
answer these questions, not just
listen to them? Jeremiah?
Jam doesn't respond.
FATHER MCNULTY
Please don't become difficult this
early in your stay. I hate
disciplining boys before I get to
know them.
A NUN enters KNOCKING.
NUN
Forgive me, Father. A young man here
with a pizza for you?
FATHER MCNULTY
Ah, yes! Send him in Sister Conimaria.
The nun exits and a second later Hawk enters wearing Lex's
baseball cap pulled down over his eyes.
FATHER MCNULTY
Well, what's the damage, pizza fellow?
HAWK
Ten even.
The priest swivels his chair around and unlocks a box labelled
"Donations." While he looks for cash, Hawk gives Jam a
discreet kick in the shin. Jam looks up and recognizes Hawk.
He then looks out the window seeing Trip, Lex, and the Volvo
below.
For the first time we see what Jam looks like with a big,
fat, shit-eating grin on his face.
HAWK
(whispering to Jam)
If he offers you a slice, you're not
the least bit hungry, check?
JAM
(whispering)
Check.
Father McNulty swivels back around with a ten.
FATHER MCNULTY
Here's ten and I'm donating your tip
to the church. The Lord thanks you.
HAWK
Tell the Big Guy not to mention it.
Hawk takes the ten, tips the brim of the baseball cap and
leaves, giving Jam a cautious wink as he goes.
FATHER MCNULTY
And not a moment too soon. I'm
famished. I hope you brought a lunch
for yourself.
JAM
No, but I'm not hungry anyway.
Father McNulty raises his eyebrows, then opens the pizza
box.
FATHER MCNULTY
Well! It finally speaks. There's one
barrier we've broken through.
Father McNulty smiles, taking a big bite. Jam smiles for an
entirely different reason. The priest mumbles with a mouthful.
FATHER MCNULTY
You know, your coming here reminds
me of a gospel called The Prodigal
Son.
Jam grins a bit feigning interest.
FATHER MCNULTY
There was once a farmer who had two
sons. Both grew up on the farm,
helping their father until...
(suddenly alarmed)
GYYAACK!
Father McNulty GAGS sticking his pizza-covered tongue out.
He pours himself a glass of wine and sucks it down looking
concerned for the moment. Finally, he BELCHES.
FATHER MCNULTY
That was a very stale mushroom.
(beat)
Where was I?... Ah, yes, one day the
elder son decided to leave the farm...
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Hawk, Trip, and Lex look up at Father McNulty's window.
TRIP
Usually takes anywhere from ten
minutes to half an hour.
They look at their watches, then back at the window.
HAWK
Shit! This is such a lousy view. How
the hell are we gonna know when he's
lit?
Just then, INSANE LAUGHTER bellows from the window above.
TRIP
He's lit.
INT. FATHER MCNULTY'S OFFICE - DAY
The Father has undergone a metamorphosis. He's redder than a
boiling lobster, his eyes bulge and he's laughing the deepest
laugh a man can without risking psychological evaluation.
Jam watches fascinated as the priest tries to finish the
story. It's not every day you see a holy man tripping on
shrooms.
FATHER MCNULTY
(in mid-guffaw)
So then, the younger one says, "But
dad... I've been helping you on the
farm my entire life!
(belly laugh)
You never once slaughtered the fatted
calf for me!" And then...
(more belly laughter)
Forgive me, Jeremiah, it's just
that... I've been telling this gospel
for years and... I just now realized
it's the work of some comedy
mastermind! The Prodigal Son is a
barrel of fucking monkeys!
Father McNulty belly laughs so hard this time, he slides off
his chair hitting his chin on the edge of his desk. He is in
pain only momentarily, then laughs again, this time at his
own pratfall. He hoists himself back into his chair.
Hawk, Trip, and Lex suddenly barge into the office, followed
by the outraged nun.
NUN
You kids can't go in there!
HAWK
It's okay, we're old buds of Father
McNulty... How's it hangin', padre?
FATHER MCNULTY
A little to the right, pizza fellow.
Father McNulty laughs some more.
HAWK
That was another dude. Anyway, we're
here to take our bud Jam to the big
satanic KISS concert tonight. Okay
with you?
FATHER MCNULTY
(waving)
Rock on!
Jam gets up and all four boys exit.
FATHER MCNULTY
(yelling after them)
Give my regards to the guy with the
really big tongue!
The nun looks at the priest, deep concern in her eyes.
FATHER MCNULTY
What the hell are you doing, Sister
Gonorrhea, waiting for a bus?
He lets out a belly laugh as the shocked nun runs from the
office. Father McNulty laughs even louder at her behavior,
POUNDING his fists on the desk, tears rolling down his cheeks,
until...
He suddenly glimpses at the painting of the Virgin Mary and
abruptly stops laughing. What appears to be extreme contrition
washes over his face as he moves closer to the painting.
FATHER MCNULTY
Jesus H. Christ, look at all the
colors.
GUIDOS
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Hawk drives, Trip rides shotgun, Lex and Jam sit in the back.
Stoked beyond belief, Jam POUNDS his drumsticks on the
upholstery to the beat of a rockin' KISS tune playing on the
8-track.
JAM
Oh, man, my mom is gonna send me to
Alcatraz for this and I don't even
care! I'm gonna see Peter Criss's
drum solo!
Lex taps Jam on the shoulder.
LEX
Not looking like that, Mr. Rogers.
Lex hands him a paper bag with jeans and a tee-shirt in it.
LEX
We got you a change of duds when we
picked up the car.
HAWK
Next stop: the 2:45 to Detroit Rock
City!
The boys do their Three Stooges handshake and say "Curly!"
Jam starts to change. Just then, the Volvo passes a two-tone
Chevy Impala with luggage tied to the roof. The passenger in
the back seat turns and spots Jam pulling off his pants.
It's Beth. Her eyes bulge. Beth parents are in the front.
Jam spots her and beams. Their eyes lock. She waves and starts
to yell something, when... suddenly... BANG!
The boys look out the driver's side of the car to see the
rear hubcap rolling away. They've got a flat.
LEX
(screams)
My mom's hubcap!
The car fishtails and weaves but Hawk manages to pull over.
The Chevy continues on, Beth gazing out the rear window sadly.
HAWK
Shit!
(looks at car clock)
Anybody know how long it takes to
fix a flat?
EXT. LOCAL TRAIN STOP - DAY
ANGLE ON a status report. The 2:45 is now leaving. We see is
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam running alongside a train as it
picks up speed by the second. They YELL for it to stop, but
it's hopeless. The train is gone. So much for the 2:45.
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Lex looks at the speedometer. Hawk's got it up to ninety-
five.
LEX
Jeezis, Hawk, can you at least keep
it within twenty miles of the speed
limit?
HAWK
Lex, am I gonna have to lock you in
the trunk till we reach Detroit?
Don't worry, these babies are built
for speed.
Trip holds his stomach as we hear it GROWL.
TRIP
I'm starvin' and it's way past
lunchtime.
HAWK
Totally. All I've had for chow was a
packet of Pop Rocks and a Yoo-hoo.
Trip spots a sign on the side of the road: Next Exit,
Sandusky.
TRIP
Let's stop in Sandusky, Hawk.
HAWK
What's in Sandusky?
TRIP
Pizza, and I been jones-in' for a
pizza ever since we left St.
Bernard's.
DISSOLVE TO:
MOMENTS LATER
INT. VOLVO - DAY
The boys chomp on their pizza slices and chug cans of Hawaiian
Punch. Another raucous KISS tune BLARES.
Behind them, a car horn starts HONKING rhythmically. Hawk
looks into the rearview mirror and sees two guys and two
girls in a tailgating Trans Am.
The guys have 90 M.P.H. haircuts, tacky, wide-collared shirts,
and massive amounts of jewelry on their necks.
The girls wear 10-layer make-up, mega-jewelry, and hair teased
so high, it touches the car's roof.
HAWK
Only a car full of guidos and stellas
would ride someone's ass on a two-
lane road and beep.
INT. TRANS AM - DAY
The speakers BLAST a DISCO SONG to which the four passengers
sing. KENNY, the driver, HONKS to the disco beat.
They're slightly older than our heroes and very full of
themselves. Kenny and his best girl CHRISTINE sit in the
front. BOBBY and BARBARA are in the back. It's a double disco
date.
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Trip lifts a rubbery slice of pizza to his mouth and the top
layer slides off PLOPPING into his lap.
TRIP
Eyowch! This is one hot pizza!
LEX
Trip, huck that out before it stains
the upholstery!
Trip grabs the wad of goop and throws it out the window.
EXT. TRANS AM - DAY
Just as the DISCO TUNE playing in the Trans Am hits the next
chorus, a fistful of pizza SPLATTERS across the windshield.
Freaked, Kenny swerves and zigzags all over the road.
Righting himself, Kenny's entire family might as well have
been insulted.
KENNY
Stop singing... NOW!
He turns off the stereo and floors the accelerator, swerving
into the left lane and passing the Volvo. Bobby is just now
noticing the mess on the windshield.
He starts to laugh.
BOBBY
Hey, Kenny, look! There's a hunk of
fawkin' cheese on your windsheel!
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Lex is looking at the mess on the Trans Am's windshield and
the anger in the eyes of its passengers.
LEX
Holy shit! We just pissed off the
Incredible Hulk, his idiot half
brother and two circus clowns.
The Trans Am runs alongside the Volvo and Hawk turns to see
Kenny pointing to the breakdown lane.
KENNY
Stop the friggin' car NOW!
Hawk rolls up his window. Kenny yells, VOICE MUFFLED, and
points to Hawk who pays absolutely no attention whatsoever.
JAM
Don't you think we should at least
pull over and offer to clean it off?
HAWK
What?! Are you mentally deranged,
Jam?
Just then, SLAM, the Trans Am bangs up against the side of
the Volvo pushing it onto the shoulder.
HAWK
What the fuck!
LEX
(freaking out)
The paint!
EXT. FREEWAY - DAY
The Trans Am muscles the Volvo into the breakdown lane.
Parking the ass end of the Pontiac out a bit, Kenny blocks
the Volvo in. Kenny and Bobby climb from their car and storm
over to the boys.
Hawk opens his door just as Kenny's hairy-knuckled hands
pull him out through the window. He grabs Trip, yanking him
out too. Bobby opens the back door and does the same with
Lex and Jam.
With a kid in each hand now, Kenny and Bobby SLAM the four
boys against the Volvo in a line. The size difference between
the burnouts and the guidos is painfully obvious now. Kenny
and Bobby are Neanderthals.
KENNY
Do you realize the sheer, goddamn,
unadulterated, undiluted, no holds
barred, one hundred percent pure as
Ivory Snow, absolutely friggin'
STUPIDITY of what you just did?
HAWK
Hey, disco dude, it's cool...
Kenny hauls back and SLAPS the row of boys in the faces Three
Stooges-style... WHACKWHACKWHACKWHACK!
KENNY
DO YOU?!
Trip, Lex, and Jam clutch their faces in pain. Hawk looks
merely disenchanted as Kenny pokes a muscle-bound finger at
his chest. Getting in Hawk's face, Kenny yammers loud and
fast.
KENNY
Lemme paint you a friggin' picture
ahright? Imagine if you will a 1978
Pontiac Trans American in pristine
condition.
(beat)
An appealing portrait, nesspah?
Hawk starts to say "yes."
KENNY
BUT WAIT! What's that spec on the
windshield? Could it be a wad of
melted mozzarella, tangy tomato sauce,
and various friggin' meat products?
Hawk is unimpressed.
HAWK
Could be.
KENNY
And if it ain't cleaned off?
CHRISTINE
Kenny, come on with the macho crap
already. Like this kid could take
you in a fight anyway.
KENNY
(ignoring Christine)
Answer me, hippie girl. And if the
mess ain't cleaned off my car?
HAWK
It could... bake on?
Kenny looks at Bobby and they exchange moronic grins.
KENNY
You're a smart little homo, aren't
you, hippie girl? But, while astounded
at your nimble, friggin' insight, I
still detect an issue hanging fire,
namely: where does a sharp-witted
faggot like yourself get off doing
such a dopey thing like that there?
Hawk figured out that any answer he gives will be incorrect
and has decided to wait till Kenny's done.
KENNY
No really, I'm perplexed. I mean,
could you have done stupider if you
were born without a FUCKIN' HEAD?!
CHRISTINE
(using "oh" to mean
"enough")
Oh! With the language!
KENNY
Shut-up, Christine!
Christine snarls at Kenny.
HAWK
Okay, Kenny? I don't mean to drain
your keg or anything, but could you
speed up this process?
(beat)
Don't get me wrong, we'd love to
stand here and get shit on by the
cast of Saturday Night Fever, but
we're also on a schedule. So step on
it.
Cold silence as Kenny replays Hawk's insult over in his head.
KENNY
Are you gettin' wise with me?
HAWK
No, I'm dumber than a goddamn slug.
Now can I please clean your windshield
and leave without further ado?
BOBBY
Break his fawkin' legs, Kenny!
Kenny's temper's rising faster than the price of gasoline.
Hawk on the other hand is cooler than an Otter Pop.
KENNY
Oh, you're dumb all right, you hairy
ass punk. But please, allow me to
clean the friggin' windshield. I
insist.
And with that, Kenny grabs himself a fistful of Hawk's long
hair and pulls him over to the Trans Am. He wipes the pizza
off with Hawk's hair, tugging Hawk's head up and down, back
and forth. Hawk GRUNTS with each wipe, but doesn't give Kenny
the satisfaction of hearing him scream.
Trip, Lex, and Jam watch helplessly, trapped under Bobby's
dull-witted, but equally threatening gaze.
Kenny gets the last of the big chunks off his windshield and
looks at his handiwork.
KENNY
There. Nice and clean.
He throws Hawk to the ground and smiles at Bobby. Then, he
suddenly hears the KISS tune coming from the Volvo. Uh-oh!
KENNY
Oh, no, no, no! It's the fag band!
Kenny clenches his jaws and walks up to the Volvo, reaching
in the driver's door. Suddenly Jam grabs his wrist.
JAM
Whoa! This is about pizza! Let's
leave KISS out of it. Please.
KENNY
A bunch of guys who make bad music,
dress like freaks, and wear more
make-up than all my sisters combined?
These assholes must be stopped!
Kenny pushes Jam away.
CHRISTINE
That's it, Kenny! I'm leaving!
Christine gets out of the car and starts walking down the
highway, exiting the scene.
BARBARA
Oh, Christine! You googatz in the
head or something? We're on the side
of the freakin' highway!
BOBBY
Let her go, Barbara, she'll come
back to Kenny. She always does...
(to Kenny)
Right, Kenny?
Kenny meanwhile has his arm in the Volvo.
KENNY
Kool and the Gang, now there's real
music.
Kenny takes the 8-track from the car...
KENNY
But this... is crap!
He flings it into the highway, where it is summarily smashed
to bits under the wheels of a passing semi.
FOLLOW a chunk of cartridge and a strand of mangled tape
streaming from it as it sails back toward the side of the
road, landing at Jam's feet.
TILT UP to Jam's face. He raises his eyes and turns to the
CAMERA, a single tear rolling down his cheek, just like the
Indian in that "Keep America Beautiful" litter ad.
Hawk rises and Kenny comes face-to-face with him.
KENNY
So. All that having been said and
done, I believe we are ready for the
final topic of discussion. Namely:
Have you learned your lesson yet,
puke?
Hawk pulls a cigarette from his pocket and lights it. He
blows some smoke in Kenny's face.
HAWK
Well, let's recap, shall we? You
slapped all of us, yelled at me,
used my head for a rag, threw me on
the ground and tossed our LOVE GUN 8-
track under the wheels of a passing
semi.
(puffing on cig)
So, if the lesson was that you're a
dick with ears and a really bad
haircut, then, yes... I'd say we
learned it.
KENNY
(beat, in disbelief)
Excuse me, I'm a little deef-a-
hearin'. Can you repeat yourself?
HAWK
Okay. Ahem! You. Are. A. Dick. With.
Ears. And. A. Really. Bad. Haircut.
KENNY
Oh, yeah...?
Out of original material, Kenny goes for an old stand by.
KENNY
That's not what your mother said
last night.
Trip, Lex, and Jam exchange "uh-oh" glances. Meanwhile, Hawk's
eyes glaze over.
HAWK
It's not, huh? Well, then, tell me...
Hawk reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his mostly
empty can of Hawaiian Punch, holding it discreetly at his
side.
HAWK
...what exactly did my mother say
last night?
Kenny draws a blank, not being prepared for this one.
HAWK
You heard me, prick. What did my
mother say last night?
Kenny chuckles and looks at Bobby. They have a good little
laugh... the homo's got balls! Then Kenny turns back to Hawk.
KENNY
Okay, fagmo... I'll tell you what
your mother said last night.
(beat)
She said that I was the fuck of her
life.
Hawk is a little mad now. He tosses his cigarette to the
ground and squashes it like a bug under his sneaker.
HAWK
(very Clint Eastwood)
How would you like a nice Hawaiian
Punch?
KENNY
(smirking)
Sure.
Quick as a shot, Hawk SLAMS the bottom of the can into Kenny's
nose, crushing it flat against his face. Hawaiian backwash
spews from its tab hole like blood as Kenny falls backwards
from the impact. He hits his head on the ground.
Taking this as a cue... Trip whips out his wallet on a
chain... Lex rips off his KISS belt... And Jam yanks out his
drumsticks.
As if choreographed, Trip swoops the wallet at Bobby's feet,
snagging him around the ankles tightly with the chain. Lex
THWAMS Bobby in the face with his big KISS belt buckle leaving
a reversed, red, KISS logo branded in his forehead.
Trip yanks the chain pulling Bobby off his feet. When he
hits the ground, Jam's right there DRUMMING his balls.
Bobby shrieks.
Meanwhile, Hawk advances on Kenny who tries to get the can
off his face, but it's stuck on looking like a pig's nose
with fruit punch for snot.
Hawk raises both his hands in Kenny's face, then executes
the final insult... Hawk messes Kenny's hair. Kenny lets out
a scream that comes from the bottom of his vanity.
Hawk grabs Kenny by the ears and brings the guido's head
swiftly against his kneecap. Kenny falls to the ground,
unconscious on top of Bobby. Their heads collide knocking
Bobby out cold.
Terrified, Barbara leaps from the Trans Am and is cornered.
LEX
Not so fast, stella.
DISSOLVE TO:
MOMENTS LATER
Kenny, Bobby, and Barbara are now tied to the guardrail with
Jam's white corduroy pants, geeky belt, and plaid shirt.
Kenny and Bobby rest their unconscious heads on each of
Barbara's shoulders.
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam look down at the two guidos and the
stella, snickering.
BARBARA
When they wake up, they're gonna
come looking for you jerks. You best
hope they don't find you, cause if
they do, they're gonna kick your
asses.
Hawk grabs a cinderblock off the side of the road, walking
up to the Trans Am.
HAWK
Right, stella, and we'll deserve it.
But let's really make it worth their
while.
Hawk puts the rock on the Trans Am's accelerator letting the
engine WHINE in protest. (Again we are cautious not to show
the guidos' faces.)
HAWK
By the way, when Kenny wakes up could
you give him a message for me. Tell
him, quote, Kool and the gang bite
my bag, motherfucker, unquote.
He throws the Trans Am into drive.
All who are conscience listen to the brief SCREECH, then
watch the Trans Am as it barrels without a driver into the
woods skirting the highway.
It races into ditches, bounces off trees, and SPLASHES through
ponds, all Smokey and the Bandit-like.
The disco-mobile ramps off the edge of an embankment, tumbles
down a steep, rocky incline breaking apart along the way,
and finally, BOOM! It explodes on final impact.
The boys all look at each other and shrug. Hawk walks back
to the Volvo and gets in. Trip, Lex, and Jam follow suit and
pile in as well. Lex shouts back to Barbara.
LEX
Oh, thanks for letting us draw from
your ample make-up supply. You must
have the entire Revlon factory in
your purse!
ANGLE ON KENNY, BOBBY, AND BARBARA.
We now see them from the front. Lo-and-behold, Kenny has
been made-up like Gene Simmons, Bobby like Paul Stanley.
Whoever finds them is gonna get the wrong idea about their
musical taste... and kick their asses all over again.
BARBARA
Very funny. I hope you choke!
STELLA ON BOARD
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Hawk starts the engine and takes off. Trip pulls a baggie of
weed and some rolling papers out.
JAM
Hey, look, it's that girl.
Jam points out at the road ahead to Christine. She's a few
hundred feet away walking sadly in the breakdown lane.
TRIP
That's no girl. That's a stella.
JAM
Stella or no stella, we should pull
over and help her out.
HAWK
Oh no, Jam. I'm not falling for that
twice.
JAM
Well, couldn't you slow down so I
can at least state my case, Hawk? If
you don't like it, you can speed up
and I'll never mention it again.
Hawk slows down, turning into the breakdown lane, travelling
about two miles per hour. Christine doesn't notice as they
edge closer to her.
LEX
What is it with you, Jam? You got a
thing for that... thing?
JAM
She's a teenage girl walking on the
side of the highway. They make very
scary movies that start out like
that.
HAWK
Well, they may not make movies about
four dudes going to a KISS concert.
But if they ever did, the four dudes
most certainly would not stop and
pick up a stranded disco bunny.
Pause.
TRIP
Unless there was gonna be a scene
where the disco bunny blows the four
dudes on the way to the show.
INT. VOLVO - DAY
Christine sits between Jam and Lex in the back SNAPPING gum.
Jam and Lex stare at her like cats looking at a fish bowl.
Hawk looks in the rearview mirror at Christine checking
herself in a compact. She swathes on some 7-Up flavored,
Bonnie Bell lip gloss.
Trip meanwhile twirls the joint he's just finished rolling
in his mouth, sealing it. He winks at her disgustingly.
CHRISTINE
Oh, great. I just hitched a ride
with a bunch of potheads... I'm
hooking up with some people at this
funky place in downtown Detroit called
Disco Inferno. Mind droppin' me there?
TRIP
(smirks)
What's it worth to you?
CHRISTINE
(grossed out)
What the hell is that supposed to
mean?
JAM
It doesn't mean anything. Don't pay
attention to him.
HAWK
(rolls his eyes)
Disco Inferno? Disco's infernal
morelike.
Trying to be suave, Lex moves in close, putting the make on
her.
LEX
Your clothes may say disco, but your
eyes say rock 'n' roll, baby.
CHRISTINE
Well, your tee-shirt may say rock
'n' roll, but your breath says
pepperoni, baby.
She pushes him away. Jam laughs.
TRIP
(frustrated)
So, are you, like, gonna polish our
nobs, or what?
CHRISTINE
(thoroughly offended)
What? That's disgusting!
JAM
Trip! That's so fuckin' rude, man.
TRIP
Oh, quit bein' the wussy, sensitive
guy to impress her, Jam. She's
obviously not gonna put out. She's a
fuckin' tease.
CHRISTINE
Tease? What the hell did I do to
tease you mongoloids?
TRIP
You got in the car, didn't you?
CHRISTINE
Oh, God, how calculating of me to
lead you all on like that after you
offered me a ride in the middle of
nowhere.
TRIP
Whatever... stella.
Trip lights the joint and takes a lungful of pot. He passes
it to Lex and the joint begins to make its rounds with the
exception of Christine. The car starts to fill with smoke.
CHRISTINE
The name's Christine, not stella.
And there's no need to be such pigs
just cause I prefer Donna Summer or
KC and the Sunshine Boys or the
Village People over KISS?
HAWK
(with disdain)
The Village People? They're fags!
You're a fag hag!
JAM
Come on, Hawk.
CHRISTINE
I can take care of myself, but thanks
anyway, germ.
JAM
Jam.
CHRISTINE
Whatever.
(to Hawk)
Okay, Joe Burnout, let's get one
thing straight here. As far as I'm
concerned good tunes is good tunes,
be it disco or rock or polka or
whatever have you, regardless of the
category. True, if I had to choose,
I'd pick the category labelled disco
because I happen to enjoy dancing.
Disco is just easier to dance to.
HAWK
You call that John Travolta/Denny
Terio shit dancing? I wouldn't dance
like that in private if you paid me.
TRIP
Disco blows dogs for quarters.
Christine processes this remark.
CHRISTINE
Now there's an intelligently biting
remark wrought with wit and irony.
Trip looks confused, then smiles thinking she paid him a
compliment.
HAWK
Hey, if you don't like that one,
maybe you'll think it's funny when
we throw your ass out the goddamn
car!
CHRISTINE
Yeah, why don't you put your money
where your mouth is?
HAWK
Why don't you kiss my hairy crack?
CHRISTINE
Why don't you bend over, you're
looking right at it!
All, Christine included, pause to think about what that
comment was supposed to mean. Lex takes a hit off the joint.
LEX
(holding in smoke)
That last remark fell about 30 yards
away from making any sense whatsoever.
Hawk and Trip immediately bust into the giggles and it doesn't
take long for Lex and Jam to follow suit.
CHRISTINE
(realization)
Hey, you're right. "Bend over you're
looking right at it?!"
(starts to laugh)
What's that supposed to mean anyway?
Christine succumbs to the contagious giggle epidemic and the
whole car gets a great laugh for a while.
They finally calm down again and wipe tears from their eyes.
Lex still has the joint now as Christine looks at it.
CHRISTINE
Man, this is some kickass shit!
(beat)
Gimme a hit off that jay will ya?
Lex smiles despite himself and holds the weed out to her as
we...
DISSOLVE TO:
HELLO DETROIT, GOODBYE TICKETS!
MONTAGE
The Volvo passing a big sign that says: "Welcome to Michigan,
the Great Lakes State."
The Volvo racing toward the Detroit skyline.
Detroit landmarks: The General Motors Building, the Ford
Building, Motown Records, and finally...
COBO HALL, where thousands of fans in KISS tees gather,
waiting for its doors to open.
Unbelievable traffic stretches to an intersection at which
stand four key landmarks... a cathedral, a convenience store,
a parking lot, and a male strip joint. They face one another,
each on its own corner.
A gigantic sign on the auditorium's facade flashes the
commandment, "YOU GOTTA LOSE YOUR MIND IN DETROIT ROCK CITY"
over and over again.
EXT. COBO HALL - SUNSET
The sun hangs low on this day as the Volvo sits in traffic,
passing Cobo Hall. Movement is nearly impossible.
KISS FANS cram every square foot of open macadam, pushing
through the jammed cars. STREET VENDORS hawk KISS souvenirs
from tee-shirts to pennants. Some are in stands along the
sidewalk. Others come right up to car windows.
INT. VOLVO - SUNSET
Christine is fast asleep between Jam and Lex.
LEX
Man, that weed knocked Christine on
her ass. She's sleeping like a baby
stella.
TRIP
(whispers lustfully)
Let's lift up her shirt.
HAWK
(pointing out
windshield)
There it is!
All look ahead. COBO Hall. A HALO GLOW forms around the
building accompanied by a CHOIR OF ANGELS.
JAM
(in reverence)
We made it!
LEX
Curly driving, Hawk. We still got
two hours to spare.
HAWK
Ample time to grab our tickets at
the station. See, up ahead. W.A.R.P.
One block on the left is the W.A.R.P. tower.
HAWK
Hey, Look at the front entrance! A
car's pulling out. The parking space
from heaven. God is surely smiling
down upon us tonight, dudes.
JAM
Kind of funny, I thought He'd be
pissed as hell at me.
The opening to the Carpenters' "TOP OF THE WORLD" begins.
INT. W.A.R.P. TOWER ELEVATOR - NIGHT
"TOP OF THE WORLD" continues, playing through the speaker of
the ascending elevator inside which Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam
stand. They watch the numbers climb, smiling.
HAWK
What was that D.J.'s name again?
TRIP
Oh, I'll remember it till the day I
die. His name was... Simpleton the
Simian? No, Samson Samoan... No,
simply, similar...
INT. SIMPLE SIMON'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam poke their heads around the corner
of an office doorway totem pole-style.
HAWK
Simple Simon?
SIMPLE SIMON strikes a pose before a full-length mirror in a
glittery-back Gene Simmons tee-shirt, silver pants, and very
high heel boots. He has a huge Afro and bushy moustache. He
turns when he hears Hawk.
SIMPLE SIMON
The one and only. But can you kids
hurry this up? I'm due at Coco Hall
in half an hour for the warm-up.
They all enter and stand at Simple Simon's desk.
HAWK
We're right behind you, Simo. Just
wanted to thank you in advance for
handing over those burly-ass tix me
and my buds won this morning.
The boys do a Three Stooges handshake and say "Curly!" Simple
Simon on the other hand suddenly appears nonplussed
SIMPLE SIMON
Your name isn't Trip is it?
INT. PRODUCER'S BOOTH - NIGHT
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam sit in the tiny producer's booth
with Simon who fast forwards a reel-to-reel tape through
some very loud, high-speed conversation and bits of music.
Looking at the footage counter on the tape player, he slows
down at a certain point and lets the boys listen to this:
The CLICK of a phone being answered.
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
Simple Simon on the Rock, go caller.
TRIP'S VOICE
Hello? Is this me? I'm Trip. Am I on
the air?
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
I should hang up on you right now,
but you're the right caller so answer
quick or get your battleship sunk.
What are the names of the four members
of KISS?
TRIP'S VOICE
Gene Klein, Stanley Eisen, Paul
Frehley, and Peter...Criscula! Yeah,
that's it!
Pause.
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
Is that your final answer?
TRIP'S VOICE
(with trepidation)
Yeah.
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
(building to crescendo)
Trip? You just got yourself four
tickets and four backstage passes to
KISS live at Cobo Hall tonight!
Pause.
TRIP'S VOICE
I did?
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
Yeah, you did!
TRIP'S VOICE
Yeeeehaaawww!! This is totally fuckin'
curly, man! Thank you God!
CLI-CLICK.
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
Whoa, easy, Trip, this is radio, not
"Taxi Driver." Now listen up cause
this next part is crucial. Stay on
the line so we can get your full
name, information, and...
DIAL TONE.
SIMPLE SIMON'S VOICE
Trip? Trip? Oh, man, you didn't hang
up on me did you? Trip?
(beat)
What kind of total moron would
hang...?
Simple Simon stops the tape and looks at the boys who look
like they've just been served a life sentence behind bars.
SIMPLE SIMON
Well, there you have it. We had no
choice but to give the tickets to
the next caller. I'm sorry.
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam stare at the floor in silence.
SIMPLE SIMON
We got sodas in the fridge if that
helps any.
INT. W.A.R.P. TOWER ELEVATOR - NIGHT
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam ride back down the elevator sipping
NeHi sodas, watching the floor numbers get lower and lower.
Terry Jack's immortal hit "SEASONS IN THE SUN" plays over
the elevator speaker.
HAWK
Well, here we are, dudes. One hour
and thirty minutes away from the
concert of the century... ticketless.
All thanks to Wile E. Coyote, Super-
Fucking Genius over here.
Trip looks away from the rest, ashamed.
LEX
Really, Trip, can we bore holes in
your head and use it as a bong so it
actually does us some good for a
change?
TRIP
Fuck you, Lex! This whole thing
wouldn't have happened if it wasn't
for you jinxing us. I just made an
honest mistake.
HAWK
Oh, I'm sorry, Trip. What you made
was a big, brainless, pile of horse
shit. No offense.
JAM
Guys, GUYS! Come on, if this is
anyone's fault, it's mine. I was the
one who grabbed Trip's jacket by
mistake. It's my fault and I
apologize.
HAWK
Please, Jam, we're trying to vent
some hostility here. Sure the whole
thing may be your fault, but who's
gonna get pissed off at you?
Jam looks at his feet.
JAM
Sometimes I think I don't deserve
friends as good as you guys.
Hawk, Trip, and Lex cringe.
HAWK
I have one question. How could a kid
who wails on the drums like it's the
only thing keeping him alive even
think of such a femmy thing to say?
TRIP
Really, Jam, you tryin' to make us
barf?
LEX
Yeah, it's like you're possessed by
The Flying Nun, or something.
The doors to the elevator open and the boys step out.
SHAKE YOUR WEEWEE!
EXT. W.A.R.P. TOWER - NIGHT
COBO Hall looms up ahead.
Hawk, Trip, Lex, and Jam enter the sidewalk. A thickening
CROWD of KISS fans continually meander by.
On their way to the car, they suddenly hear a WOMAN'S VOICE
bellowing through a megaphone from somewhere down the street.
After a moment they see the voice's source.
A GROUP OF WOMEN has congregated about forty feet ahead and
their LEADER, her back toward the boys, yells to the group
through her bullhorn. Flying above them all is a large banner
reading: "MATMOK, Mothers Against The Music Of KISS."
LEADER
Welcome to the first open meeting of
MATMOK, Mothers Against The Music Of
KISS!"
The group cheers as the KISS FANS milling around them pretty
much ignore the whole MATMOK spectacle.
Lex looks away from the MATMOKS and into the street. We can't
see what he sees, but we can tell he's alarmed.
LEX
Uh... dudes?
HAWK
(ignoring Lex)
Now there's a woman who totally abuses
the privilege of motherhood.
LEX
DUDES!
They all look at Lex.
LEX
(eyes focused ahead)
Where's the Volvo?
Hawk, Trip, and Jam look at their parking spot to see a beat-
up Dodge Dart sitting there instead of the Volvo.
TRIP
It's gone.
LEX
I can see that, bright boy. What
happened to it?
JAM
It was stolen!
HAWK
(incredulous)
Christine stole it! Asleep, my ass!
The stella booted with your mom's
wheels.
LEX
But we took the keys?
TRIP
Damn, she musta hot wired it. We
picked up a professional car thief
in the shape of Olivia Newton-John!
LEX
Okay, I'm just a little mad now!
Jam, why'd you talk us into picking
that bitch up in the first place!?
JAM
I'm sorry, guys. I thought it was a
nice thing to do.
HAWK
Jam, not another word out of your
femmy-ass mouth! Okay, we're here,
we got nothing, and we got an hour
and a half. We're totally committed.
It's time to brainstorm.
LEX
Here's a suggestion. Let's stop
worrying about the concert for the
time being and get the cops in on
this Volvo situation.
HAWK
Wake up, Lex. This is Detroit. The
cops aren't gonna waste city dollars
looking for a Swedish car. Face it,
the Volvo's on a cutting board as we
speak getting sliced, diced, and
julienned by Christine, the chop
shop gourmet.
Lex is developing a look of resolve. This is Detroit!
HAWK
Now listen up. Here's the game plan.
LEX
(on a roll)
...I mean, my mom's got insurance.
What's the worst thing she could do?
Ground me for the entire year? I can
handle that...
HAWK
Cool, bro, now listen up...
LEX
...Holy shit! I am in absolute
trouble! I never should have let you
drive, man! Absolute fuckin' trouble!
HAWK
Okay, shut the fuck up, Lex! Now,
then, step number one, we find us a
scalper. I got...
(takes out KISS money
clip)
twenty-five.
TRIP
Twenty-five more'n I got.
LEX
All I got is five. The rest is in
the Volvo.
JAM
I got...
HAWK
Uh-uh. Don't tell us, Jam. Just show
us.
Jam holds up a ten keeping his mouth shut.
HAWK
So maybe we got enough for one ticket.
Fuck!
TRIP
Waitaminit, dudes! I got it! We find
four really small kids, beat the
shit outta them and steal their
tickets. What do you think?
HAWK
(sarcastic)
Brilliance, Trip. Sheer brilliance.
Give Albert Einstein here the Nobel
Prize.
Trip smiles proudly.
LEX
I think we should try sneaking in.
HAWK
Four dudes sneaking in? We'd get
busted fer sure. Bad plan.
LEX
Okay, one of us sneaks in, gets four
ticket stubs off some kids in the
audience, comes back out, and we all
"re-enter" the concerto. Voila!
HAWK
Still too risky for my money.
(looking at watch)
We're running out of time here. This
is KISS! A victory for one is a
victory for the team. I'm sure I can
barter with a scalper, but if you
dudes think you got better plans, go
for it. We'll reconvene at that
intersection...
Hawk points to the intersection where the church, the male
strip joint, the parking lot, and the Smiley Mart are located.
HAWK
...at twenty-thirty hours.
TRIP
One more time in English.
HAWK
For the next hour and a half it's
every dude for himself. Try to get
at least one ticket and at 8:30 P.M.
we'll meet over there.
JAM
(inspired)
Wait! I know how we can get in!
HAWK
Jam, shut-up! You're not allowed to
speak, remember? Go use whatever
femmy idea you have to get yourself
a ticket or four. I don't wanna hear
it.
JAM
(sadly)
But... my plan involves all four of
us acting together.
HAWK
See you at 8:30, Jam. Later.
(to Lex and Trip)
Dudes? Later.
Hawk, Trip, and Lex split up, leaving Jam alone. He starts
walking in the opposite direction, passing MATMOKS. The leader
is still on a roll, yelling through the megaphone.
LEADER
Look around you tonight, mothers!
Look at all the young faces! They
smile and laugh but their eyes have
lost all hope! Not one among them
appears to possess the love and fear
of God... This satanic group KISS
has stolen their souls.
The leader's gaze finally falls upon Jam. He lets out a GASP.
Yes, the leader is Mrs. Bruce. So this was her church meeting.
She freezes when she sees her son; her jaw slackens. Meanwhile
Jam looks stunned beyond comprehension.
JAM
Oh... dear... Lord!!
Mrs. Bruce quickly hands the megaphone to another MATMOK
member, who picks up where Mrs. Bruce left off.
Jam looks around for someplace to run and hide, but it's too
late. Mrs. Bruce slices through the crowd of KISS fans and
grabs Jam by the ear. He yelps.
MRS. BRUCE
I don't know how you got here tonight
and I don't want to know either. All
I know is you're going to pay dearly
for this one, young man!
EXT. ST., SEBASTIAN'S CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Mrs. Bruce tugs Jam toward the intersection we saw before.
They cross the street toward the corner where the Cathedral
sits.
Jam looks up at the cross on the steeple and GULPS with
trepidation.
JAM
Mom, what're we...?
MRS. BRUCE
Just keep your lying, heathenous
trap shut, Jeremiah.
They climb the steps to the cathedral passing a bulletin
board reading: Thank God It's Friday Mass, 6PM-7PM.
PARISHIONERS exit the beautiful church, shaking hands with a
PRIEST as they leave.
PARISHIONERS
What a wonderful mass, Father/So
inspirational, Father/Thank you.
PRIEST
Thank you/Come again next week.
Mrs. Bruce pulls Jam up to the priest.
PRIEST
Next mass is tomorrow morning, sister.
MRS. BRUCE
Can we talk, Father? I'm desperate.
My son was about to defy God by going
to that blasphemous KISS concert.
PRIEST
In that case, come right in.
Meanwhile, across the street...
EXT. WHITE CASTLE HAMBURGER JOINT - NIGHT
Parked in front of the busy fast-food establishment we
recognize the two-toned Chevy Impala with luggage tied on
top. In the window we see Beth and her parents sitting at
one of the booths.
Out the window Beth looks across the street just as Jam,
Mrs. Bruce, and the priest enter the cathedral. Her face
drops.
BETH
Oh my God! That's Jeremiah!
DAD
Who?
BETH
Jeremiah Bruce from school. He and
his mom just went into that church.
He must be in Detroit for the concert.
Can I go say good-bye to him?
MOM
Beth, I am not letting you wander
the streets of Detroit after dark.
BETH
I'm not going to wander. I'm just
gonna go over there.
Beth points to St. Sebastian's.
BETH
He's with his mom.
DAD
Fine, as long as we know where you
are. But don't be long. We need to
be getting back on the road.
Beth is already out the door and halfway across the street.
Dad pats mom's shoulder.
DAD
She's probably got a little crush on
that boy.
EXT. ST. SEBASTIAN'S CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Beth runs up to the cathedral and sneaks in.
EXT. IT'S RAINING MEN STRIP JOINT - NIGHT
Hawk walks down the sidewalk badgering everyone passing by
for a ticket, getting the same stock answer: "Suffer, dude!"
He stops and sits on a curb, lighting a cigarette. Behind
him stands the marquee for IT'S RAINING MEN, the male strip
joint. A DISCO SONG comes from inside. Just when it looks
like Hawk's given up, a VOICE is heard above.
VOICE
Hey, chief? Need a ticket?
Hawk can't believe his ears. He looks up at a greasy-looking
hybrid, part porn star, part used car salesman, the SCALPER.
SCALPER
Second row center, seventy-five clams.
Trying to act confident, Hawk takes out his money clip showing
the scalper twenty-five dollars.
HAWK
Dude, this is all I got.
SCALPER
Sorry, man, no can do. But I'll be
here for a while if you scare up the
extra gravy.
HAWK
Where the hell am I gonna scare up
that kinda gravy in one hour?
SCALPER
The easy way.
The scalper points over his shoulder and Hawk turns to see
three GIGGLING WOMEN exiting the strip joint. None are under
forty.
A sign below the bar's logo reads: Amateur Night Giveaway!
Guys Over 18 Only! Bare It All And Win 75 Bucks!
SCALPER
You look a little scrawny, but it's
worth a shot.
HAWK
I can't just walk in and take my
clothes off. It's embarrasskin.
SCALPER
Guess you don't want to see the
greatest show on earth. And in Detroit
no less. Well, take care, chief.
The scalper turns and Hawk grabs his arm.
HAWK
Dude, if it were dancing the way
Fred Astaire did it, I'd give it my
best shot. I'd learn the steps and
practice in my spare time. But this...
tribal, ritualistic bullshit, it's
way-too-spontaneous for me.
SCALPER
Yeah, you're probably too young
anyhow.
HAWK
Hey, I invented fake I.D.s, alright.
That's not the problem... They're
playing disco music in there, man.
SCALPER
Chief, here's a little secret. Drink
heavily, your feet will know what to
do. Now shit or get off the pot. Do
you wanna dance or do you wanna see
KISS only on their album covers?
Hawk gets a look of resolve on his face.
SCALPER
You sure you'll have a ticket for
me?
SCALPER
You have my solemn oath as a public
servant.
Hawk turns and walks up to the door, hesitating before opening
it. Rummaging through his pockets, he pulls out a handful of
expired driver's licenses.
Choosing the one he thinks best suits himself, he walks in
with trepidation. The scalper sees someone else coming up.
SCALPER
Hey, chief, you need a ticket? Second
row center, seventy-five clams.
It's Trip.
TRIP
No thanks, dude. I'm beating my ticket
out of some poor, defenseless chump.
Trip exits FRAME.
SCALPER
What's happening to kids today?
INT. IT'S RAINING MEN STRIP JOINT - NIGHT
Hawk enters your average, everyday, male strip joint. A crowd
of LUSTY WOMEN cheer on a STRIPPER IN A FIREMAN'S SUIT. He
dances on a lighted, tile stage under a spinning, mirror
ball.
Hawk shows the MAN AT THE DOOR his fake license and the man
nods him in. He approaches the bar in the early stages of
being very intimidated.
The BARTENDER, a man dressed only in tight, black, tuxedo
pants, shirt cuffs, and a tie, comes up to Hawk.
HAWK
(voice cracking)
Like to sign up for the contest.
The bartender gives Hawk the once over.
BARTENDER
You're a little scrawny, but thanks
to the concert we're low on amateurs.
Name?
HAWK
Hawk.
BARTENDER
Pick a song, Hawk.
HAWK
Got any KISS?
BARTENDER
You kidding? This is Detroit. Drink?
HAWK
Yeah, a man's drink...
Hawk squints at a name tag on the bartender's tie.
HAWK
...Dickey.
Dickey goes to the bottle rack on the other side of the bar.
HAWK
(to himself)
I'm gonna need all the help I can
get tonight.
Dickey returns with the drink and Hawk pulls out his money
clip.
HAWK
(looking at the drink)
What's that?
BARTENDER
You mean you never seen a Jack Daniels
on the rocks before?
Hawk looks at the unfamiliar drink again trying to play it
cool.
HAWK
Sure, I have. But not one with ice
in it, that's all.
BARTENDER
(seeing money clip)
Save your money, stud muffin. The
lady at the end of the bar sends her
love.
Dickey points to a WOMAN sitting at the end of the bar. Mature
and sexy. She's a knock-out. Every teenage boy's fantasy.
Hawk's eyes pop at this "Mrs. Robinson" before him.
HAWK
Whoa... she is a killer.
BARTENDER
Amanda Finch. Her ex is one of the
wealthiest businessmen in Detroit.
Play your cards right and you could
hit paydirt. She like 'em young.
(leaning in)
And since you look a little new at
this, let me give you three words of
advice. Hard to get. Think it, act
it, know it, be it. Nothing a woman
loves more than when you beat her at
her own head games.
Dicky pats Hawk's shoulder and leaves. Hawk looks away from
Amanda and scans the room. He glances back at Amanda. She's
still gazing at him the way queens of yore must have eyed
particularly cute knights. She winks and toasts Hawk.
Hawk raises his glass smiling nervously. They both sip at
their drinks. She licks her lips suggestively at him. And,
Hawk proceeds to COUGH up his mouthful of Jack Daniels,
SPRAYING it all over the bar.
SMILEY MART / HAULING BASS
EXT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
Your typical 70's convenient store. Out front two SIX YEAR
OLDS in Star Wars tee-shirts play tug-o-war with a Stretch
Armstrong doll.
Trip stomps over grabbing them by their mini shirts. When he
tries to act tough, it's pathetic. Even six year olds aren't
afraid.
TRIP
Hey, you little twerps, gimme your
KISS tickets or I'll pop your fuckin'
faces in.
SIX YEAR OLD #1
We don't have any KISS tickets.
SIX YEAR OLD #2
Yeah, KISS sucks!
TRIP
I oughta kick your asses for sayin'
that.
He grabs the Stretch Armstrong and stuffs it in his pocket.
TRIP
But I'm in a hurry so I'll just take
this instead. Now scram.
The kids run away.
INT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
The store is crawling with KISS FANS, some reading the comic
books, others playing pinball against a far wall, still others
looking at the poster section. Trip enters on a mission.
He looks around catching the eye of a pretty CASHIER. She's
a rocker, wearing a Who tee-shirt, a mood ring, and just a
little too much make-up. She smiles at him. Trip returns the
smile with a feeble wave. Her mood ring turns from blue to
pink.
Concentrating on the layout of the store, Trip peers all the
way to the back to a darkened corner... where he spies a
LITTLE KID wearing a KISS tee-shirt playing a KISS pinball
machine.
Trip smiles. The eagle has spotted a fuzzy, little bunny. He
moves in for the kill, walking past a crowd of kids at the
magazine rack, past the Hostess aisle, past the dairy cooler
and into the darkened corner.
He stands behind the little kid, relishing this moment. The
kid is actually pretty good. We also see now the little kid
has his face painted like Ace Frehley.
TRIP
Hey, little kid.
Suddenly distracted, the kid loses the ball.
LITTLE KID
Shit! You just skunked my last ball,
you...
Trip clamps a hand over the little kid's mouth.
TRIP
Okay, booger, your KISS ticket or
your life.
The little kid says something but Trip's hand muffles his
words.
TRIP
Hunh?
The kid says what he said before, but it is utterly
incomprehensible, once again thanks to Trip's hand.
TRIP
(looking at his hand)
Oh. Okay... But scream and you'll
never live to see puberty. I'll pop
your fuckin' face in.
Trip pulls his hand away.
LITTLE KID
Please sir, don't beat me up. I do
have a KISS ticket, but not on me.
TRIP
A likely story. Hand it over, kid.
LITTLE KID
(bottom lip quivering)
No really. My brother's hanging onto
it for safe keeping. Please, let me
get him for you.
The kid turns and yells into the store before Trip can stop
him.
LITTLE KID
Hey, Chongo!
A titanic guy at the comic book rack looks up from his issue
of "Thing" when he hears his name. CHONGO has a very low
forehead and the expression of an angry bull plastered onto
his face.
TRIP
(getting scared)
Hey, kid, that's okay. I don't wanna
see KISS that ba...
LITTLE KID
Don't try to run, maggot. Chongo's
an all-state track star in every
event.
TRIP
What do you want?
LITTLE KID
(gleefully)
A tag on your toe. Nobody threatens
me and lives.
TRIP
Look, you can have my wallet...
LITTLE KID
It's not nearly enough, punk.
Chongo is getting ever-closer with his tree trunk legs, his
barrel chest and hydraulic biceps. He is joined by TWO BUDS.
LITTLE KID
Besides, I was gonna take your wallet
anyway. After Chongo and his friends
crush your ribcage like a pack of
Luckys.
Chongo arrives eyeing Trip with distaste. Trip goes white.
CHONGO
This fairy givin' you shit, bro?
LITTLE KID
He was gonna mug me for my KISS
ticket.
TRIP
Me? Mug? That's nuts. I said, do you
know where I can take a piss.
Chongo and his two buds laugh. Then, without a second of
warning, Chongo belts Trip in the gut. Trip doubles over and
falls breathlessly to his knees.
CHONGO
Okay, pimple dick, you've got the
option of walking outside with us or
gettin' dragged out. Either way you're
comin' with us.
Trip catches his breath.
TRIP
Please, sir, don't kick my ass! I'll
do anything to get out of a beating!
LITTLE KID
Say, Chongo, perhaps we could use
some extra cash for tasty snacks at
the KISS concert our weasly friend
won't be attending.
Chongo scratches his head.
CHONGO
How much cash do you figure?
LITTLE KID
Take five for a minute, Chongo. Let
me do the math.
The little kid taps his finger on his chin and the theme
from "JEOPARDY" begins. While the kid thinks, Trip looks
nervously up at Chongo and his buds. Chongo reaches into his
denim vest pocket and we hear a CRINKLING NOISE. He comes
back up with two walnuts, putting them between his bicep and
forearm.
Trip watches in horror as Chongo makes a muscle and the
walnuts are shelled between two walls of iron-hard flesh.
CREEEAAAACK! Chongo eats the walnuts, shells and all.
EXT. PARKING LOT - NIGHT
The full-to-capacity parking lot is patrolled by a couple of
SECURITY GUARDS.
Lex cautiously makes his way to the edge of the parking lot
and looks at the back side of Cobo Hall just beyond the chain
link fence that surrounds the lot.
He crouches down and walks between two cars parked against
the fence, looking both ways. Seeing a guard's flashlight
beam, he sits stock still until the beam sweeps past, then
SIGHS eased.
LEX
(whispering to self)
I can't believe I'm actually
entertaining the notion of sneaking
in. I oughta have my cranium examined.
Lex finds a vertical break in the chain link. He lays on his
back, slides through, then stands on the other side of the
fence. He's at the edge of a weedy, littery field that also
happens to be poorly lit.
LEX
Whoa. Danger Will Robinson.
Spooked, he lays down again intending to slide back through
when a flashlight beam hits his eyes.
SECURITY GUARD'S VOICE
Hey you! Get back in here!
Lex sees the guard standing about fifty feet away on the
other side of the fence. Panicking, he bolts deeper into the
field.
SECURITY GUARD'S VOICE
You're not getting far, kid!
Lex double-times it as we hear the guard yelling into his
walkie-talkie.
SECURITY GUARD'S VOICE
We got one just ran into the field
from the north lot!
The field gets darker as Lex closes in on Cobo Hall's well-
lit loading dock, where ROADIES empty the remaining bits of
KISS's monstrous set from an 18-wheeler. Other huge trucks
are parked nearby. There's a bustle of last minute activity.
EXT. LOADING DOCK - NIGHT
Lex scurries from giant speaker box to a stack of lights to
huge trunks, keeping well hidden. He dodges roadies and avoids
being seen by OTHER GUARDS.
He slithers along side the 18-wheeler and nears the loading
bay. Up ahead some auxiliary speakers, drum kits, and
scaffolding wait their turn to be carried into the building.
SECURITY GUARD'S VOICE
There he is!
Lex spins. The security guard, flanked by two others, barrel
right for him.
LEX
Shit!
He dives rolls under the 18-wheeler. The three security guards
leap for the pavement and crawl under the semi after him.
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE SEMI
The three guards scramble to their feet and grab a SCRAWNY
BODY. They spin him around roughly.
SECURITY GUARD
Alright, wiseguy, you are so outta
here!
They suddenly realize they've got the wrong man. It's a
roadie.
ROADIE
Hey, what the fuck?
The roadie holds up his all-access laminate angrily.
ROADIE
Keep your paws to yourself, ya dumb
fuckin' apes.
The security guards look around frantically for Lex as other
roadies join in to defend their comrade.
SECURITY GUARD
Where'd he go? You see him?
No one pays attention as a bass drum is carried past the
guards and up the loading dock ramp. They don't notice Lex
crammed inside contorted into a shape befitting a yoga master.
Praying he won't be spotted, Lex holds his breath as he's
carried into the building and disappears.
JAM IN A JAM / KISS THIS
INT. ST. SEBASTIAN'S CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
Jam sits in the front pew, head buried in his hands as Mrs.
Bruce and the priest talk on the alter.
Beth moves quietly in the back, unseen and unheard. She looks
overwhelmed by the architecture, the detail on the stained
glass windows, the icons carved into the columns that support
the extravagantly decorated ceiling.
The priest catches a glimpse of Beth meandering in the back.
PRIEST
Uh, next mass isn't until tomorrow
morning, young lady. Run along now.
Beth smiles nervously and heads back toward the front door
passing a confessional booth. She throws a glance back at
the priest and Mrs. Bruce who have returned to conferring,
their backs to her. She stealthily ducks into the booth.
MRS. BRUCE
Now it's been a while since my boy
had holy confession. Could you...?
PRIEST
(smiling)
Consider it done.
Mrs. Bruce looks down at Jam and sees his drumsticks poking
out of his socks. She immediately takes them out and stuffs
them into her jacket. Jam doesn't even move.
MRS. BRUCE
It's about time you gave up on that
stupid dream once and for all. No
son of mine is going to be a career
musician.
Jam is stung. Mrs. Bruce and the priest head back down the
center aisle exiting through the gigantic front doors. She
eyes Jam.
MRS. BRUCE
Thank you, Father. I'll be back for
him before you know it; after I take
care of some unfinished business.
PRIEST
Just knock loudly, sister.
He lets her out and locks the door, leaving the keys in the
lock, and walks over to Jam.
PRIEST
Come along, son. Get into the booth.
He helps the despondent Jam up. They walk to the booth and
Jam reluctantly gets inside.
INT. CONFESSIONAL BOOTH - NIGHT
Jam kneels on the board and a mere two feet behind him, Beth
sits on a bench shrouded in darkness. Her posture is that of
someone with a crate of nitroglycerine on her lap.
We hear the SHUFFLING noise of the priest getting into his
own compartment next door. A moment later the small, eye-
level door SLIDES open. The priest's face is barely visible
on the other side of the thick screen, but he's there.
JAM
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned.
This is my first confession in...
well... a really long time.
PRIEST
Prepare to receive the Act of Penance.
How many sins have you committed
since your last confession?
JAM
Just one, Father, but boy was it a
doozy.
Beth leans forward slightly and listens to Jam's confession.
INT. IT'S RAINING MEN STRIP JOINT - NIGHT
Hawk's at a bar stool gulping sloppily and woozily from a
rocks glass. Four more empty rocks glasses sit in front of
him. He stares at the sexy woman who smiles back, blowing
him kisses from the other side of the bar.
The EMCEE enters the stage.
EMCEE
(into microphone)
Okay, ladies, hang onto your hormones.
Here comes our next amateur. Let's
have a big hand for Hawk!
The beginning of a rockin' KISS tune comes over the P.A. and
Dicky approaches Hawk.
EMCEE
You're up, Hawk.
Hawk wakes up fast. There's nothing more sobering than having
to undress in public.
HAWK
Oh, Dicky, I c-c-can't...
BARTENDER
You're not gonna chicken out on me
now, are you? We've got your KISS
song playing and everything.
HAWK
I-I c-can't...
BARTENDER
(leans in close)
Look, people undress in public
because, A, they're exhibitionists,
B, they're nutcases, or C, they need
the money. I can tell you're not A,
and I hope to hell you're not B. So
my suggestion is, think about why
you're a C and let your body party,
shake your groove thing, boogie oogie
oogie till you just can't boogie no
more.
Hawk thinks about it, then downs the rest of his drink. He
grimaces at it's taste, then opens his eyes with new resolve.
HAWK
You're right, Dicky. I gotta do it
for KISS. Gotta put a bag over its
head and
(hiccup)
Do it for KISS.
Hawk swivels his bar stool to the right and gets off,
forgetting to stand when his feet hit the floor. He proceeds
to fall flat on his face. Dicky looks down concerned, but
Hawk stands with a little difficulty and heads for the stage.
The crowd of women parts down the middle for him and checks
him out as he walks by. They seem to like what they see.
Hawk looks nervously at the carnivorous faces leering at his
package first, his ass after. What the hell is he doing?
Hawk reluctantly climbs onto the stage and the gals start
CLAPPING to the song. He faces them and starts gyrating his
drunken hips at them, feeling no confidence whatsoever,
until...
The CHEERS start to ECHO and the pulsing lights begin to
hurt his eyes. Hawk watches the world proceed to spin faster
than the disco ball above his head.
He stops gyrating and clutches his stomach. BELCHING. Uh-oh.
Hawk spots an almost-empty beer pitcher one of the CHEERING-
IN-SLOW-MOTION women holds above her head. He runs up to the
edge of the stage, grabs the pitcher, and PUKES.
The cheering and music come to a grinding halt. You can hear
a pin drop as Hawk yacks his guts out into the beer pitcher.
It goes on for an excruciatingly long time, then finally
stops.
Hawk looks up at the hundreds of astonished eyes staring at
him. He wipes his mouth, then a look of ease washes over his
face.
HAWK
Wow. I feel a hundred times better!
He hands the vomit-filled pitcher back to the shocked woman.
HAWK
Thanks lady.
He looks over at the emcee, who gazes at Hawk from the DJ
booth.
HAWK
Maestro? As you were.
The emcee stands perfectly still, jaw agape.
HAWK
Come on, dude, we got a bunch of
frisky felines waiting for some
entertainment! The show must go on!
Hawk starts gyrating even though the music is still off. The
emcee shrugs, re-cuing the song. It starts again as Hawk
faces the crowd, dancing with new-found bravado.
The women come out of their dumbstruck comas and reluctantly
start CLAPPING again.
Hawk pulls off his jacket and twirls it over his head Roger
Daltry style. Then he pulls it back down and tosses it into
the crowd. The women actually fight over it.
Encouraged, Hawk then peels off his KISS Army tee-shirt and
hurls it at the women, who SQUEAL with delight. Sure, he may
be scrawny, but they don't mind. This lad's got personality.
Adrenaline pumping, confidence building, Hawk starts playing
the crowd of very responsive ladies.
He unbuttons his jeans first. Then, leaving them on, he does
an "air guitar" medley: Chuck Berry, ZZ Top, Angus Young
from AC/DC, and Elvis Costello in six easy steps.
Hawk finishes off with a Pete Townshend windmill, shaking
his ass at his audience in mid-strum, then licks his finger
and touches one of his cheeks: "hot stuff" (he does this in
a manly way of course).
Then Hawk pauses to adjust what looks to be his underwear
bunching up in his crack.
The women WHOO-HOO.
He segues into a Mick Jagger rooster strut and the ladies go
ga-ga. He makes the sign of the horns with each hand and
wiggles a protruding tongue like Gene Simmons. The gals scream
in orgastic joy.
Then, Hawk goes for the gold. Yes, he does the Fonzie dance!
The women are now overcome by sheer animal lust. Hawk's
whipped his audience into a frenzied pack of bitches in heat.
Amanda smirks and sucks from her little drink straw
suggestively.
At long last Hawk figures he has to give them what they want.
He puts his fingers to his fly, pauses, then unzips. His
Brittanias fall to his ankles, revealing a pair of bony legs
sticking down from some KISS boxer shorts. The ladies go
batty.
Unfortunately Hawk has neglected a cardinal rule of disrobing.
Never pull your pants down without taking your shoes off
first. He tries to kick off his shoes. The left one goes
flying across the bar and THWACK, beans a MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN
in the face. She flies backwards over a chair.
Trying to kick the other shoe off, Hawk loses his balance
and falls backwards, hitting his head on the edge of the
bar.
DRUM ROLL / NEGOTIATION
INT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
Trip looks at the little kid, Chongo, and the two buds in
fear.
TRIP
Two hundred bucks?
LITTLE KID
You heard me, nad breath. My time's
precious and I think that's a
reasonable price to pay for your
sorry life.
TRIP
Look, I want to live, but I don't
know where the fuck I'm gonna find
two hundred bucks.
The little kid shakes his head in disgust.
LITTLE KID
Chongo? Take him outside and tear
his ass out through his mouth.
Chongo advances, muscles flexing.
TRIP
Hold on! I know how I can get the
money! I just figured it out! Only
you might wanna wait outside.
The little kid and Chongo look at each other.
CHONGO
I don't trust him.
LITTLE KID
I think he's on the level. He's too
stupid to try anything sneaky anyway.
Look at him, he's a moron.
They look back at Trip.
LITTLE KID
You got fifteen minutes and not a
second longer. We have a concert to
go to. See you outside.
Trip nods sullenly as the kid, Chongo, and the two buds exit.
Then he checks to make sure Stretch Armstrong is still with
him.
INT. BASS DRUM - NIGHT
Lex is twisted like a pretzel as he's carted into the bowels
of Cobo Hall. He tries to keep calm, but it's not in his
nature.
LEX
(under his breath)
Keep it together, Lex. Anything worth
fighting for is worth dying for.
INT. COBO HALL/RECEIVING AREA - NIGHT
ROADIES and TECHIES run in all directions as last minute
preparations are being attended to.
Two roadies carry the base drum down a long ramp unaware
that Lex is hidden inside.
ROADIE #2
Boy, this one's heavy.
Suddenly, Roadie #2 snags his foot on a mess of cable and
loses his balance, dropping the oversized drum. In an instant
the drum goes rolling down the ramp quickly gaining speed.
ROADIE #2
Shit!
The roadies bolt after the runaway drum. Other workers scurry
out of the way to avoid being hit by the speeding instrument.
INT. BASS DRUM - NIGHT
Lex spins like in a dryer on speed.
LEX
WHOOOOAAA!
INT. COBO HALL/RECEIVING AREA - NIGHT
More techies jump out of the way as the wayward drum heads
right for a closed set of double doors. The roadies are just
about to grab it before impact, when...
The door unexpectedly swings open. The FOXY GROUPIES on the
other side scream at the sight of the careening drum heading
straight for them.
ROADIE #2
Close that door!
Too late. The groupies jump away as the drum flies through
the open door and down a flight of stairs.
INT. COBO HALL STAIRWELL - NIGHT
The drum bounces down the zigzag stairway violently. Lex's
GRUNTS of pain can be heard from inside.
AT THE BOTTOM
The big drum hits the landing hard, tips over, then spins
like a quarter getting faster before it stops.
ON THE ROADIES
They barrel down the stairs two at a time. Finally reaching
the bottom, they grab the drum.
ROADIE #2
Peter's gonna kill us.
As they carry the drum back up the stairs, we see it is now
empty. Once the roadies are gone, CAMERA TILTS UP to the
ceiling. There's Lex clutching exposed pipes for dear life,
hanging upside down, praying the coast is clear.
BETH'S CONFESSION / COMPENSATORY POSSIBILITIES
INT. CONFESSIONAL - NIGHT
Jam is at the end of his confession. The priest is still
listening on the other side of the screen. Beth sits in the
shadows behind Jam.
JAM
So, you see if it wasn't for me, me
and my friends would be at that KISS
concert right now... together.
PRIEST
That's it?
JAM
Yeah.
PRIEST
Well, this is a unique confession to
say the least, son. And not exactly
the most interesting one I've ever
heard either. You sure you don't
want to talk about... oh, carnal
knowledge with a neighborhood girl
or impure thoughts about the new
student teacher maybe... or how about
finding a box of magazines under
your dad's bed?
JAM
No.
PRIEST
Well then, I suggest you have a seat
on the bench behind you and think of
something a little juicier to confess
than losing KISS tickets. I realize
this is Detroit, but I personally
find, what that rock and roll band
is all about, to be boring as
Lucifer's kingdom. I'll return in a
little while.
The priest SLIDES the door shut again. Jam is all but shrouded
in darkness, but can make out the time on his watch. It's
getting late. He resignedly sits on the bench behind him...
right on Beth's lap.
Jam yells, but Beth throws her hand over his mouth. His eyes
bulge. He can't believe what he's seeing. He climbs off Beth
and sits next to her.
JAM
(whispering)
Beth? I can't believe it.
BETH
Believe it.
Jam thinks for a beat. Something still isn't quite clicking.
JAM
Are you waiting for confession? I
thought you were Jewish?
BETH can hardly speak. She gulps thinking of what to say.
BETH
I have a confession. Here it is.
Beth gives him the biggest, wettest, sloppiest kiss in
recorded history. She pulls away finally wiping her mouth.
BETH
I didn't mean for that to be so...
intense. Forgive me.
JAM
I don't care. I wanna hear more.
She lunges at him again, kissing him for dear life. Her lips
leave his and begin to explore his chin, neck, ear.
BETH
I've loved you ever since I first
laid eyes on you, Jeremiah. I've
just always been too scared to show
it.
JAM
Beth, I can't believe you just said
that because that's exactly how I've
always felt about you... Call me
Jam. It's my band name.
BETH
You don't know how long I've been
waiting to hear that... Jam!
He kisses her neck. Unable to stop, they start undressing
each other, both breathing heavy.
BETH
We've got to take this slow...
JAM
Right, slow...
BETH
Oh, screw it!
She tears his tee-shirt open with her teeth.
INT. IT'S RAINING MEN STRIP JOINT - NIGHT
A really buff STRIPPER dressed as a construction worker is
on stage with about ten others who stand in the background.
The emcee's hand hovers above the stripper's head.
EMCEE
Okay, ladies, it's down to... Troy
the Human Jackhammer...
The women APPLAUD as we...
FOLLOW the emcee's hand to Hawk who holds an ice pack on the
side of his head.
EMCEE
...and Mr. Massive Head Wound
Accompanied by an Upset Stomach-Hawk!
The women APPLAUD but not quite as loud.
EMCEE
No contest. The grand prize of seventy-
five dollars goes to Troy the Human
Jackhammer!
The women cheer and a DISCO SONG starts as Troy does a reprise
of his act. Hawk walks away from the stage with the rest of
the rejected strippers, looking the way he feels: pretty
damn stupid. He puts on his pants, trying to walk at the
same time and falls to his knees.
A helpful hand grabs him under the arm and helps him up.
It's Amanda looking lustier than ever.
HAWK
Thanks, miss.
AMANDA
You're too kind. I'm Amanda.
HAWK
Right, well, thanks for the drinks
and stuff, Amanda, but there's no
reason for me to stick around these
parts anymore.
AMANDA
Don't be so glum, Hawk. The night's
still young and filled with plenty
of compensatory possibilities.
HAWK
Huh?
AMANDA
I'd be in a position to spend some
money on you if you'd get in a
position and spend some time on me.
Hawk GULPS.
INT. CONFESSIONAL BOOTH - NIGHT
Jam and Beth lay buck naked, tightly wrapped around each
other in the heat of passion on the confessional booth floor.
They kiss, sweat, and PANT heavily.
Suddenly, the sliding door to the priest's booth opens. Jam
and Beth freeze.
PRIEST'S VOICE
Where are you, son?
JAM
Uhh, tying my shoe.
PRIEST'S VOICE
Oh. So, have you thought of a colorful
confession yet?
JAM
Actually, yes. Last year I walked
out of a candy store with a Reggie
Bar I hadn't paid for, but went back
and apologized the next day.
PRIEST'S VOICE
Boooring. Think, boy, think!
We hear the door SLIDE shut again as Beth and Jam pick up
where they left off.
HOLD UP
INT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
Trip leafs through a KISS comic, not really paying attention
to it. Directly behind him is the register and the CASHIER.
He starts hearing voices in his head. We see SUPERS of his
friends' faces hovering around him.
LEX'S VOICE
I can't believe you're even thinking
of committing a robbery, Trip. You
don't pass go and collect 200 dollars
for pulling stuff like this.
HAWK'S VOICE
No shit, dude, is this really worth
it? Sure you get your ass kicked
nine ways to Sunday by that fucking
gorilla, but it's still a hundred
times better than getting it porked
for the next three to five.
Trip sends brief, agitated glances around the store meeting
the cashier's eyes again. She smiles at him coyly as she
plays with her mood ring. He gives her the eye, then returns
to his comic.
JAM'S VOICE
And what about that girl, Trip? She'll
never forget this night. Even if you
get away with it, she'll be scarred
for life. When are you gonna realize
sometimes being tough means being
tender.
TRIP
(to the other voices)
Alright, everybody, SHUT UP!
Trip snaps out of it. All the shoppers and cashier are
starring at him. He COUGHS loudly, clearing his throat to
cover his outburst. The shoppers go back to shopping.
A MAN WITH A LONG COAT enters the store, looks around, then
takes a spot alongside Trip and opens a Mad Magazine.
TRIP
(whispering to himself)
Okay, bro. You gonna have to do this
sometime. Might as well be now.
Trip puts a hand in his pocket and takes one last look at
Stretch Armstrong before stuffing the action figure back in
so it looks like he's got a gun. He takes three deep breaths
and discreetly pulls his knit cap down over his eyes,
revealing it actually as a semi-ski mask that covers the top
half of his face.
Just then, the man with the coat puts the magazine back and
pulls something over his own head.
Trip whirls around pointing Stretch-in-his-pocket at the
cashier...
Just as the man in the coat, now masked with a stocking,
pulls the biggest shotgun ever made from under his coat,
pointing it at the cashier as well. The cashier shrieks. So
does Trip.
MAN WITH COAT
Evening, honey. Y'know what I am,
what this is, and what you have to
do, so do it quick.
(to shoppers, Trip
included)
The rest of you kindly introduce
yourselves to the floor and kiss it
hello.
His thunder now stolen, Trip drops to the floor along with
everyone else. The air is very tense. The cashier starts
SOBBING, keeping her hands in the air.
MAN WITH COAT
(to cashier)
Do or die, bitch! Next time I let
the barrels do the talking.
CASHIER
P-p-please, mister, I'm just a high
school kid...
Man with the coat COCKS the chamber and the cashier
immediately opens the register drawer and starts emptying
it.
MAN WITH COAT
Fuck school, that's what I say! I
just went through the motions till I
was old enough to drop out and I'm
leaving here with at least two fifty
the easy way. Look where all that
studying's gonna get you tonight.
Robbed at gunpoint and possibly shot
in the fucking head... for minimum
wage!
The man with the coat's laughter ECHOES in Trip's head till
he just can't take it anymore.
ON THE CASHIER
She suddenly shoots a surprise glance over the man with the
coat's shoulder.
Seeing this, the man spins around. There's Trip behind him.
TRIP
Alright, drop it or I'll kick your
ass!
Astounded by Trip's audacity, the man with the coat turns
his shotgun point-blank at Trip.
MAN WITH COAT
Oh, yeah! You and what army?
TRIP
(gulps)
The KISS Army!
CRASHING BACKSTAGE
INT. COBO HALL/BACKSTAGE - NIGHT
Your wildest fantasy of a rock show's backstage area come
true. The place is packed with "beautiful" people. Scantily-
clad BABES everywhere. Slick, RECORD BIZ-TYPES. Lots of food.
Lots of booze. Lots of fun. It's backstage at a KISS concert,
come on!
CAMERA TILTS UP above the partying hordes to find Lex shimming
along an exposed duct amid the pipes, sprinklers, and vents.
Looking straight down on everybody, Lex is in awe and
disbelief.
LEX
This is real. This is not a dream!
This is real! I've pierced the inner
circle!
He takes the opportunity to peer down some BIG BUSTED GIRL'S
cleavage. Then his eye spots something else. He GASPS. A
door. On it a star. Written on the star, the word, KISS.
LEX
Oh, God, they're in there!
A big-haired HIPSTER in mirrored sunglasses KNOCKS on the
dressing room door. It opens, but Lex can't see inside. The
hipster stands in the doorway talking to whoever is there.
Lex cranes his neck to see around the door jamb. Desperate
for a glimpse of his idols, he leans out too far.
Suddenly, the entire duct collapses. Breaking loose of the
ceiling, Lex hurls to the floor clutching the duct. Backstage
goers leap for cover as SMASH... he hits the ground in a
shower of plaster and dust.
The hipster protectively pulls the dressing room door shut
as two SECURITY MEN jump in front of it.
Instantly, huge, burly hands come down on Lex's shoulders.
Before he can react, a slew of OFFICERS have him off his
feet and carry him away, a stunned expression frozen to his
face.
EXT. ALLEY BEHIND COBO HALL - NIGHT
Lex is thrown into a heaping garbage dumpster by the scruff
of his neck. The security officers laugh and pat themselves
on the back as they hurry back in.
Lex peeks out the lid. The alley is dark and spooky. He jumps
out of the trash and comes face to face with the biggest
GERMAN SHEPHERD that has ever lived. Its teeth are bared and
its black, wolf-like body is coiled, ready to spring.
GRRRRRRR!
Lex jumps backward hitting the dumpster. A GROWLING PITBULL
walks out from the shadows and joins the Shepherd.
LEX
(petrified)
Dogs! Why did it have to be dogs!
Then, a GROWLING DOBERMAN with a spiked collar emerges from
the darkness on the other side of the alley, its solid,
muscular form making the brick building nearby look like
jello.
Lex starts SLAPPING himself on the face.
LEX
Wake up, Lex! Wake up, man! This
part's gotta be a nightmare!
No luck. He stops, when several other DOGS emerge from the
shadows and gather behind the first three. These new mutts
immediately join in the GROWLING chorale. The Shepherd snaps
at Lex.
LEX
(to the heavens)
God, if you ever get me outta this,
I swear I will never masturbate again!
The pack BARKS even louder.
LEX
(to heaven again)
I REALLY MEAN IT THIS TIME!
INT. CONFESSIONAL BOOTH - NIGHT
Beth lays in Jam's arms on the floor. They might as well be
the only two people on the face of the earth. They whisper.
BETH
So. Is it true that Gene Simmons had
a cow's tongue grafted onto his real
one? Y'know, to make it so long?
JAM
I dunno. I think he had the piece of
skin under his tongue removed so he
could stick it out farther. I'm not
too up on Gene trivia.
BETH
Your man is the drummer, Peter Criss,
right?
JAM
Peter Criss is my inspiration, man.
If I paid a hundred bucks for a KISS
show and all I saw was his solo, I'd
consider it... money... Hey, how'd
you know that?
BETH
I have all your notebook doodles
memorized, Jam... Here.
She opens her backpack and pulls out a package addressed to
Jam. The return address reads: Beth Bumsteen, Somewhere in
Ann Arbor.
JAM
Ann Arbor?
BETH
My dad's company is relocating him.
We're moving. That's why I was acting
so freaky in school today. I thought
it was the last time I'd ever see
you. Anyway, open the box. I would
have given it to you this morning,
except... like I said, I was freaking
out.
Jam opens the box and his jaw drops. It's a black tee-shirt
with the "Mystery" logo printed in white on the chest. Jam
holds it up. It's gigantic.
BETH
I pass by this really cool tee-shirt
shop on my way to school every day
and I know you wear those black tee-
shirts all the time. You look like a
size thirty-five, but all the sizes
were in Roman numerals. So I got you
an XXXL. That's thirty-five, isn't
it?
Touched, Jam kisses her for a long time. He starts putting
on the shirt when suddenly they hear the SHUFFLING of the
priest entering his booth. Jam grabs his clothes and sits
back on the bench. Beth starts getting dressed at his feet.
PRIEST
Okay, you better have something really
sinful for me this time, son. My
patience is worn to threads and your
mom will be here any minute.
JAM
(pulling up his pants)
Alright, Father, here it is. About
two weeks ago I went to my cousin's
wedding and one of the bridesmaids
asked me if I wanted to take a bath.
PRIEST
No...
Beth is tying her shoes. Jam slips on his socks.
JAM
I was insulted, so I asked her if I
was wreaking some wicked b.o., right?
Then she said no, she wanted to take
a bath with me.
PRIEST
Oh, this is terrible... Please go
on.
JAM
Well, she was a very tempting siren,
Father. Built like you wouldn't
believe. So I gave into temptation
about a block away from the wedding
reception at this little motel that
charges by the hour.
Jam pauses.
PRIEST
Well? Continue! Continue!
JAM
Okay... when she peeled off that
gown, you'll never guess what she
was wearing underneath.
PRIEST
Was it a teddy?
Fully dressed, Beth crawls out of the confessional.
JAM
No. Much bet... I mean, much more
sinful than that.
PRIEST
A bustier?
JAM
Tell you what. You keep guessing and
I'll say something when you get it.
PRIEST
Splendid! I love a good game of Name
That Nightie.
Jam quietly sneaks out.
INT. ST. SEBASTIAN'S CATHEDRAL - NIGHT
We can hear the priest's voice as Jam hurries to Beth. They
dash out the door.
PRIEST'S VOICE
Satin underwear? Crotchless panties?
Leopard skin bra? Fishnet leotard?
Leather G-string?
EXT. ALLEY BEHIND COBO HALL - NIGHT
Still trapped by the GROWLING, BARKING pack of dogs, Lex
searches nervously through the garbage behind him.
LEX
Okay, okay, you're pissed off. I can
see this. So... Maybe what we need...
ah-ha.
Lex holds up a worn-out, old frisbee.
LEX
Play some frisbee, poochies?
The pack just glares and SNARLS. He tosses the frisbee over
the packs' heads, but the dogs don't even acknowledge it.
They just keep BARKING and GROWLING.
Meanwhile, an unnoticed dog at the rear of the pack, a mangy
Basset Hound, turns its flat head to see the frisbee land on
the ground behind him. His tail starts to wag.
LEX
(exasperated)
Alright! I give up! I hearby and
forthwith defer my destiny to you
mutts. I may be an intelligent,
upright, walking, homo-fucking sapien,
but you fleabags are a force of
nature. So, I'm just gonna sit here
and wait for you to decide. If you
let me live, I thank you. If you
bite my head off, I'll die knowing I
did all I could. It's up to you.
Lex waits before the GROWLING, SNAPPING canines. Suddenly,
the Basset Hound runs up in front of the pack and drops the
frisbee at Lex's feet. Lex looks down at the floppy, wrinkly
dog, who wags its tail and PANTS furiously.
LEX
Well, how do you like that?
Lex starts to pet the hound, and one-by-one the rest of the
dogs shut-up. Shocked, Lex picks the frisbee up again and
throws it.
This time the entire pack bolts after the Whammo product.
Lex smiles, watching them fight for it in the air... in SLOW
MOTION... as the theme from "CHARIOTS OF FIRE" begins.
The black Shepherd finally grabs the frisbee in its mouth
and runs back toward Lex. It's soon joined by the rest of
the pack. That's right about when Lex realizes they aren't
going to stop.
LEX
Whoa! Whoa!
The dogs plow into Lex full-force knocking him into the
garbage. They surround him licking his face. Lex bursts into
unstoppable laughter.
Pulling himself up, he pets the dogs as they jump around him
wagging their tails and PANTING.
LEX
(baby talk)
You sonsofbitches could tickle a guy
to death, y'know that? Sure you do...
Sure you do...
Lex stops. He hears TALKING coming from inside the windowless,
brick building on the other side of the alley. He steps in
front of the pack and puts his fingers to his lips. They
obey, quieting instantly. He then tiptoes to a thin crack in
the brick wall. The dogs quietly follow.
Lex puts his eye to the crack and peers in.
INT. CHOP SHOP - NIGHT
LEX'S POV
His mom's Volvo and a BMW are on adjacent hydraulic lifts
inside a makeshift auto-mechanic shop.
Two BEEFY JERKS with blow torches stand next to the cars.
One has a bandage on his head and seems to be in pain.
BEEFY JERK #1
So, I jump into the car, hot-wire it
in thirty seconds and start driving.
Then, suddenly I hear this scream.
The disco queen was asleep in the
back seat.
Beefy jerk #2 laughs.
BEEFY JERK #1
You think it's funny? How would you
like to have a stiletto heel smacking
you in the temple when you're tryin'
to work?
Beefy jerk #2 laughs more. Beefy jerk #1 checks the time.
BEEFY JERK #1
You about done splittin' a gut there?
We gotta get these parts to Toledo
by nine.
Then a familiar voice is heard coming from the back of the
shop.
CHRISTINE
Then maybe you guys'll let me go,
huh?
Lex follows the voice and sees Christine handcuffed to a
radiator near the rear of the shop.
CHRISTINE
Come on, whadaya say? You scratch my
back, I scratch yours. You let me
go, and in return, I keep my big
mouth shut about your little operation
here. Mum, know what I mean?
BEEFY JERK #2
You're lucky you're still alive,
wench. If you was a guy, we woulda
thought nothin' of sawing your head
off with a butter knife.
BEEFY JERK #1
What are we gonna do with her anyway?
Beefy jerk #2 bares what's left of his yellow, crusty teeth
BEEFY JERK #2
I dunno, but she sure looks fun.
Beefy jerk #1 touches the bandage on his head.
BEEFY JERK #1
Yeah, and payback's a bitch.
Christine GAGS at the thought.
ANGLE ON WALL CRACK
Lex's eyeball bulges with terror.
EXT. IT'S RAINING MEN PARKING LOT - NIGHT
DOLLY FROM the front end of a Jaguar XKE, Michigan vanity
plate reading: AMANDA.
TO its windshield, through which we see Hawk and Amanda
kissing in the front seat, clad only in their underwear.
Something like "ME AND MRS. JONES" plays on the radio. When
they separate, Amanda takes out a flask and offers it to
Hawk.
HAWK
Thanks.
He gulps some down and pulls the flask away COUGHING.
HAWK
What the hell is that?
AMANDA
Gin.
HAWK
Whoa. Some of this hard liquor's a
tad too manly for me. I'm a brewski
man myself.
AMANDA
Better ease up then, Hawk. Wouldn't
want to give you whiskey dick would
we?
HAWK
Who's Whiskey Dick?
Amanda plants a stocking foot on Hawk's crotch and rubs.
AMANDA
Well. Obviously no one you have to
worry about... Woody.
HAWK
My name's not Woody, it's Haw-haw...
Hawk's eyes cross as he lets out a DEEP, OBNOXIOUS GROAN.
HAWK
...holy shit!
Amanda looks down at his crotch.
AMANDA
But you do know Premature Peter,
don't you? Shame, I just bought these
stockings.
Hawk has never been more embarrassed.
HAWK
Well, Amanda, this has been quite a
night. So far you've seen me and my
dick throw up.
(to the heavens)
What's next? Projectile diarrhea?
(beat, to Amanda)
Man. What a stud, huh?
AMANDA
Believe it or not, you still have a
way to go before you start competing
with my soon-to-be-ex-husband... the
champion of lousy lovemaking. The
man who thinks he's the biggest and
the best... The man who thinks every
secretary, stewardess, and cocktail
waitress he fucks should lick his
feet for the honor. The man for whom
faking it was invented. Christ, if I
hadn't gotten pregnant with our son,
I would have never known I even had
sex with the prick.
She takes a healthy swig of gin, relishing its bitterness.
HAWK
You love him?
AMANDA
I just told you, he's a big, hairy...
HAWK
No, I mean... you love your son?
AMANDA
More than anything in the world.
HAWK
And he loves you back, doesn't he?
AMANDA
He's a little spoiled, but I know he
does.
HAWK
Well, shame on him if he doesn't.
She pats his shoulder.
AMANDA
You're sweet.
Hawk stares out the windshield.
HAWK
My mom died of a heart attack while
she was having me. Man, I wish I had
known her for even one day. If they
ever invent a time machine, that's
what I'm doing. Going back in time
to meet my mom. I'm gonna say, "Mrs.
Pitchford?... or Miss Williams,
depending on when I show up. You
don't know me, but I'm your kid from
the future. Just wanted to thank you
for the blue eyes, pug nose and for
tying the knot with a guy who didn't
mind diaper detail... Oh, and, uh...
cut down on the red meat, will ya?"
Amanda caresses Hawk's cheek. He turns with her hand and
kisses it. He takes her arm and begins kissing his way up to
her neck, her cheek, her mouth...
DR. LOVE TO THE RESCUE
INT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
It's a stand-off. Prone customers look up at Trip and the
man with the long coat circling each other like sharks. The
helpless cashier lets out fearful sobs.
MAN WITH COAT
Gimme your gun, boy!
TRIP
No, you gimme your gun, boy!
MAN WITH COAT
Don't tempt me, I'll shoot!
TRIP
Not if I shoot first!
MAN WITH COAT
I don't even think you have a gun!
TRIP
Neither do I!
The man with the coat puts his shotgun against Trip's head.
MAN WITH COAT
Now, for the last time, take the
piece out and lay back down or your
mom's gonna need the White Tornado
to get the brains outta your ski
cap.
Trip GULPS. The jig's up. He slowly pulls out Stretch
Armstrong, and the man with the coat glances down and starts
to laugh very loud. So loud, he throws his head back.
When he recovers, Trip's got Stretch aimed at his head and
pulled back to maximum tension.
TRIP
Smile, you sonofa...
Trip lets go. WZZMACK! The man gets it right in the face and
falls backward onto the Hostess display, toppling a whole
bunch of Ho-Ho's, Ding-Dong's, Twinkies, and Suzy-O's to the
ground.
Trip runs up and grabs the shotgun away as the man with the
coat lifts his head briefly, then passes out.
Trip turns around and the cashier SLAMS into him, nearly
knocking him over. She throws her arms around him letting
out relieved SOBS. Behind her all the customers rise from
the floor CLAPPING. Trip did it. He saved the fucking store!
The cashier looks into Trip's masked eyes.
CASHIER
Thank you! Thank you!... Who are
you?
TRIP
(with confidence)
Call me... Dr. Love!
She plants a thousand mega-watt kiss on his lips and we ZOOM
IN on her mood ring changing color from gray to fire engine
red.
Trip's eyes widen just before... KABOOM... The shotgun he's
holding goes off, blowing a hole in the ceiling.
The recoil from the blast jolts Trip and the cashier apart.
We now see Trip's face is smeared with bright, red lipstick.
A huge chunk of ceiling falls onto his head but he doesn't
move. The kiss hit him harder.
I'M HERE FOR THE GIRL AND THE CAR
INT. CHOP SHOP - NIGHT
BZZZZZ! Christine and the beefy jerks watch the brown, '78
Volvo, Ohio plates: OB-GYN, ascend on a hydraulic lift.
Behind them sits the BMW skeleton. These boys work fast.
CHRISTINE
You guys better kill me before you
do what you're thinking of doing.
Cause when I'm mad enough, I can
bite down very hard.
The beefy jerks laughs.
BEEFY JERK #1
Sweet Polly Purebred's got some spunk,
huh?
BEEFY JERK #2
I'll give her some spunk alright.
They put their blow torches down and turn to her.
BEEFY JERK #1
We stripped that Beemer in fifteen
minutes. Bet we can strip her in
fifteen seconds.
They giggle maniacally and lumber toward Christine. Their
shadows growing larger and larger across her.
CHRISTINE
(mile a minute)
Now wait a minute, guys! Two against
one ain't fair. Lemme go back and
get my friend Barbara. You'd love
her. Tits the size of your head.
You'll feel like a little baby sucking
on 'em. I swear, I'll bring her right
back. It'll be a four-way... You
guys like disco? I teach disco dancing
at my church. You guys look like you
got rhythm in your blood. Come on,
free lessons if you let me go.
BEEFY JERK #1
I know a dance we can do. The
horizontal hustle.
They both laugh. Just as they're about to grab her...
Suddenly, the garage door behind them SLIDES UP revealing
darkness. Christine and the beefy jerks look out anxiously.
BEEFY JERK #1
Who's there?
Silence except for CRICKETS. Then... from out of the darkness
emerges a figure... Lex. Christine's eyes brighten like a
bulb.
LEX
I'm here for the girl and the car.
You can try to stop me, but I must
warn you, it may be hazardous to
your health.
The beefy jerks laugh at this little punk. They start toward
him, one with a tire iron, the other a big monkey wrench.
BEEFY JERK #1
Too bad. He was such a young idiot.
BEEFY JERK #2
Ehhh. He was a stupid boy. He deserved
to die.
Lex lets out a quick HIGH-PITCHED WHISTLE. The pack of BARKING
dogs led by the Shepherd, the Pit Bull, the Doberman, and
the Basset Hound, step from the darkness and flank Lex,
GROWLING and SNARLING at the beefy jerks.
LEX
Listen to them. Children of the night.
What music they make... Hounds of
hell? Say hello to dinner!
The beefy jerks drop their tools on their feet and yelp in
pain. The pack takes this as a threat and charge the beefy
jerks, who bolt for a glass-partitioned office. The dogs
SCRATCH and BARK at the window ferociously.
Lex smiles at Christine. She smiles back. He presses the
"down" button on the lift and the Volvo descends. Lex yells
to the beefy jerks through the glass.
LEX
One foot out of that office and your
asses are Alpo!
Lex unlocks Christine. She leaps into his arms.
CHRISTINE
Wow! Thank you! You're cooler than
the Fonz.
She gives him a lingering kiss. Lex leans back, gives the
double thumbs-up, and says...
LEX
Aaaayyyyy!
Lex takes her hand and they walk over to the Volvo. Lex lets
her in then rounds the car to the driver's side.
BEEFY JERK #1
Hey, what about the dogs?
LEX
You got a phone in there?
They nod. Lex drips a dry smile onto them.
LEX
Call the cops.
The beefy jerks watch in disbelief as the Volvo SCREECHES
out of the chop shop.
2 GODDBYES, A PUNCH IN THE GUT AND A DRUMSTICK
EXT. WHITE CASTLE PARKING LOT - NIGHT
Beth's parents wait in the running car as Jam and Beth share
a heartfelt good-bye outside the back door.
BETH
Ann Arbor isn't... that far from
Cleveland, right?
JAM
Nah. Once I get my own wheels, I
could come up all the time.
BETH
That'd be great. Hey, maybe someday
your band'll play there. It's a
college town, you know?
Jam takes her hands.
JAM
I feel like such an idiot. Why didn't
I just say something a year and a
half ago? Man, think of how much
time we wasted.
BETH
Let's not think about the past. Let's
just think about from today on. I'll
never forget you, Jam.
JAM
Tell me about it. Church will never
be the same again.
They stare at each other for a really long time. Then, kiss.
BEEP. BEEP. Dad looks back out the window and CLEARS HIS
THROAT LOUDLY.
BETH
(flustered)
Coming dad.
(to Jam)
I'll call you. Soon as we get a phone.
Bye.
JAM
Bye.
She gets in the car. They both wave as the Impala turns a
corner out of sight. Jam is left alone still waving long
after she's gone.
INT. AMANDA'S JAG - NIGHT
Amanda and Hawk are half-dressed post-coitus. She looks in
her purse.
HAWK
Amanda, as ironic as this is gonna
sound, I can't take any money for...
I'm no Midnight Cowboy, y'know. It
would only cheapen the whole deal
for me.
AMANDA
I'm not paying you for the lovemaking,
Hawk. I just want you to have whatever
you needed the money for when you
took me up on my offer.
She forces the money into his palm.
HAWK
...Thanks.
They kiss.
AMANDA
You're a good man, Hawk. Thank you.
EXT. SMILEY MART - NIGHT
The cashier, shoppers, and a gathering CROWD watch two cops
load the dazed man with the coat into a cruiser.
COP #1
(to cashier)
You wouldn't happen to know where we
could find this... Dr. Love, would
you?
CASHIER
It's company policy to hand over a
cash reward of a hundred and fifty
dollars to anyone who stops a robbery.
I gave him the money and he took
off.
The cops shrug and get into the cruiser.
COP #2
Okay, well, thanks anyway. And let
us know if you happen to see him
again. We'd like to ask him some
questions.
The cruiser takes off and the cashier stares at her mood
ring. It throbs red like a beating heart.
CASHIER
(sighing to herself)
If I see Dr. Love any time soon,
you're gonna have to wait till I'm
done with him first.
CAMERA TRACKS BACK QUICKLY AND SWINGS JUST AROUND THE CORNER.
EXT. SMILEY MART PARKING LOT - NIGHT
We find Trip counting his money out to the little kid, Chongo,
and their two buds.
TRIP
...hundred forty, hundred fifty.
That's all I got.
The little kid puts the money in his pocket.
LITTLE KID
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I really wanted things
to work out for you, my weasly, dim-
witted friend. You got spunk.
(to Chongo)
Chongo, give him a fifty dollar
wallop.
Chongo reels back and...
TRIP
Oh, no... Please, look. I...
THWAM! Right in Trip's face. Trip flies off his feet into
the Smiley Mart brick wall with a THUD. A bag of weed drops
from his jacket, then some uppers, a few sheets of acid, and
finally a can of beer rolls out.
CHONGO
Hey, the jerkoff's got drugs.
LITTLE KID
Consider it a bonus, Chongo.
Chongo laughs like an ejaculating gorilla as he and his two
buds scoop it all up. The little kid, Chongo, and the buds
leave Trip lying in a puddle of his own nose blood.
He pulls out Stretch Armstrong and looks at him fondly.
TRIP
(misty eyed)
At least I still got you, Stretch.
Trip looks up. The six year olds who he stole it from stand
close by having watched the whole humiliating exchange.
Licked, Trip tosses the doll to them. They both dash away
with it, giggling.
EXT. NEARBY STREET - NIGHT
Christine sits in an idling taxi taking money from Lex, who
stands outside the window.
LEX
This oughta be enough to get you to
Disco Inferno, Christine.
CHRISTINE
Come with. It's not too late for you
to catch the fever.
LEX
No can do. But I made a promise to
get you to that disco, and we KISS
maniacs are men of our word.
Besides... you're pretty cool... for
a stella, I mean.
Christine takes his hand and writes something on his palm in
lipstick.
CHRISTINE
Here's my number. Tell me how cool I
am over the phone sometime. Okay?
She gives Lex a kiss then pushes him away.
CHRISTINE
(to CABBIE)
Disco Inferno, on the double.
The taxi SCREECHES away as Lex smiles and gets back into the
Volvo.
INT. COBO HALL - NIGHT
Jam approaches the stadium, passing the MATMOKS, walking
straight up to Mrs. Bruce. Her back is to him. He taps her
on the shoulder. She turns. Her jaw drops. It escaped again!
And what an ugly tee-shirt.
JAM
I'm gonna ask you nicely first. Mom,
can I have my drumsticks back?
Taken aback by his confidence, Mrs. Bruce grabs his ear and
tries to pull him away. He won't budge.
JAM
Again, can I have my drumsticks?
A BUNCH OF IDIOTS walk by with big transistor radios. One of
them holds a Mr. Microphone and heckles the MATMOKS.
LEAD IDIOT
Hey, I'm on the radio! Hi, good-
lookin'. We'll be back to pick you
up later!
Mrs. Bruce yells at Jam through her bullhorn.
MRS. BRUCE
Drumsticks are the least of your
worries, young man. You are in a
world of...
Jam yanks the Mr. Microphone from the lead idiot and screams
at his mother, his voice amplified on the transistors.
Everyone stares.
JAM
I know, mom, I've been in trouble
for about twelve hours now!
Hellooooo!?
The other MATMOKS turn to look as Jam climbs onto a trash
receptacle and shouts down at his mother, his face slowly
turning purple.
JAM
I'm gonna be spending the next two
years of my life at St. Bernard's
Boarding School, remember?! I'm gonna
be outta your hair till I'm a legal
adult, remember?! That way, all you
have to do is go to church, light a
candle, pray to a little statue for
me, and voila! All is forgiven and
forgotten, right mom?!! Then, you
can spend your days in guilt-free
pursuit of more constructive
activities like telling everybody
else how screwed up their lives are!
That way you no longer need the
patience and understanding required
to communicate on some normal level
with your own child!!! And that way
you don't even have to think about
how tough it was for you when you
were growing up, and it's a good
thing too. Cause if you did, you'd
realize what a LOUSY, GODDAMN, SHITTY-
ASS, PARENT YOU ARE!!!
The crowd of KISS fans APPLAUD Jam's rant. Mrs. Bruce is
utterly winded from the assault.
MRS. BRUCE
(timidly)
Jeremiah... what's gotten into you?
JAM
(into Mr. Microphone)
I just lost my virginity in a
confessional booth! Lord have mercy!!
The crowd cheers. Jam jumps down and hands the Mr. Microphone
back to the lead idiot. He turns to his mom.
JAM
For the last time, mom. Let me have
my fucking drumsticks. Please.
Mrs. Bruce reaches into the trash, finds the drumsticks and
hands them to him. He spins them like pistols, then stuffs
them into his socks and walks away.
SIMPLE PLAN
EXT. IT'S RAINING MEN STRIP CLUB - NIGHT
Hawk runs to the scalper across the street who's selling a
ticket to another KISS fan.
HAWK
Whoa! Whoa! WHOA! That better not be
the last ticket! I hope you have
another one for me!
The scalper sees Hawk and bolts down the street disappearing
around a corner. Hawk stops. He's lost him.
Hawk sulks to the now-familiar intersection where all four
landmarks meet. He takes one more look up the block at Cobo
Hall. Nearly all the KISS fans are inside. The streets are
almost deserted.
HAWK
Fuck me!
He sees someone out of the corner of his eye across the
street. It's Jam. Lex approaches the other corner. Trip comes
up to the forth corner. They all stop when they see each
other. Each standing on his own corner. They're all pissed.
They meet in the middle of the street as last minute CONCERT
GOERS hurry by.
HAWK
Any luck?
TRIP
Plenty, but it was all bad.
LEX
I found the Volvo.
HAWK
Tickets?
They all shake no.
HAWK
Well, dudes, the only way we're gonna
see KISS this tour is by some fuckin'
miracle.
Suddenly, a commotion up the street. A SURLY MOM yanks four
12 YEAR OLD BRATS dressed like KISS by the scruffs of their
necks. She's furious, they're CRYING.
SURLY MOM
How dare you sneak out of the house
like that! You had me worried to
death! Don't you know this is Detroit!
And for a degenerate band like KISS!
They're sick, sick, sick and oughta
be in jail with their vile antics!
She throws a wad of paper to the pavement as they pass our
four heroes. The dudes watch her pull the brats away.
SURLY MOM
Just wait until your father gets
ahold of you!
Jam, Hawk, Lex, and Trip turn and look at the crumpled wad
at their feet. It's an envelope. An ANGELIC SPOTLIGHT FROM
ABOVE highlights it.
LEX
No... You don't think...?
HAWK
Nah. Couldn't be.
They all shake their heads in unison resolved that it isn't.
Then, unable to control themselves, they dive for the
envelope. Jam tears it open. His trembling hand reaches in.
All their eyes focus like lasers on what's inside.
Jam pulls out four KISS tickets. Their jaws drop. Their eyes
bug.
JAM
It's a miracle! A miracle!
The boys are practically moved to tears. It's Divine
Intervention at its finest.
Suddenly, a greasy hand juts out of nowhere and grabs the
tickets. The boys look up shocked. They can't believe it.
ALL FOUR BOYS
ELVIS?!!
Yes, Elvis. Fire in his eyes. Mania on his mind. And tickets
in his hand.
ELVIS
(laughing hysterically)
Whose laughing now?! Whose laughing
now, ya little shits?! I told ya...
Over my dead body! Ha-HA-HAAA!
HAWK
(arms outstretched)
Take it easy, Elvis. Don't do anything
crazy. Just give me the tickets before
someone gets hurt.
TRIP
Hey, wait a minute! This ain't school
property! He's not the boss of us
here!
ELVIS
(crazed)
That's right. This ain't school.
It's not about school anymore. Now
it's personal.
LEX
Come on, Elvis. We was only kiddin'.
It's all in good fun. We run, you
chase. Cat and mouse. You know.
ELVIS
Boys, this time... I win!
Elvis stuffs all four tickets in his mouth and chews crazily.
In seconds, GULP. Elvis explodes into unhinged laughter as
he runs away zigzagged down the street.
Our boys are left dumbstruck and speechless. After a really
long pause...
JAM
Well... I still got my idea if anybody
will let me speak.
HAWK
(beaten)
Go ahead, Jam.
JAM
We all beat each other up, then,
once we're nice and bruised, we run
over to the ticket takers and say we
got mugged and our tickets were
stolen. They gotta let us in then.
They stand and think for a moment. Hawk's mouth curls into a
devilish grin.
Then, he lets out a gigantic "AIEEE!!! and slugs Jam. The
four boys brutally pummel one another in the middle of the
intersection. Punching. Kicking. Headbutting.
EXT. COBO HALL - NIGHT
Two TICKET TAKERS are letting the last KISS fans in. They're
about to close the doors when our four bloodied and bruised
heroes come running up.
HAWK
Dude, you gotta let us in! Four
muggers just stole our tickets!
TICKET TAKER
(sceptical)
You expect us to believe that?
JAM
Look at us!
Trip points into the crowd of fans inside the auditorium
foyer.
TRIP
It was those assholes! They even
stole my wallet!
The ticket takers turn to see the little kid, Chongo, and
their two buds just going in. The ticket takers signal two
security guards who proceed to stop the four stunned kids
and confiscate their tickets. They find all the stolen dope
and Trip's wallet.
TRIP
Inside that you'll find my KISS Army
picture I.D. and a hundred fifty
bucks cash.
The security guards see he's right and break out the cuffs.
TRIP
(to little kid)
Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I was really hoping
things would work out for you, my
weasly, midget friend. You got spunk.
The little kid for once is speechless.
Then the ticket taker extends his arm in SLOW MOTION into
COBO Hall as if to say "Entrez Vous." The four friends pause.
JAM
This is it!
They take a few slow steps almost as if they don't believe
it, then run like the wind into the auditorium.
DETROIT ROCK CITY
INT. COBO HALL AUDITORIUM - NIGHT
The lights are out. The lighters have been lit. The CROWDS'
ROAR is deafening.
Jam, Hawk, Trip, and Lex plow their way through the throngs
and head straight for the front row just as Simple Simon
takes the stage.
SIMPLE SIMON
You wanted the best! And you got the
best! The hottest band in the world...
KISS!!!
Simple Simon runs from the stage just as the opening chords
to DETROIT ROCK CITY BEGIN.
On the beat, BOOM, FIREWORKS shoot from the floor alighting
the place. KISS takes the stage descending on hydraulic
elevators.
ON JAM, HAWK, TRIP, AND LEX
They're seeing God!
The show is spectacular. The costumes. The make-up. The
blitzkrieg of pyrotechnics. The flashing KISS sign. Ace's
smoking guitar. Gene's spewing fire. Paul's rockin' vocals.
Peter's kick-ass beat.
Then, something really weird happens.
The crowd behind the boys heaves forward. Jam is pushed like
a twig in a flood and over the shoulders of those in front
of him. Purely by accident, he is thrown onto the stage
landing on his stomach between Paul and Gene. Just before
Peter's drum solo is about to start.
Gene, Paul, and Ace silence their instruments. Peter throws
his drumstick into the air intending to catch it when it
comes down. But the sight of Jam landing on the stage
distracts him.
All is mute as Peter misses the drumstick. It hits the outside
edge of one of the drums.
Thinking fast, Jam grabs one of his drumsticks out of his
sock and tosses it to Peter. It tumbles through the air in
SLOW MOTION with a LOW, WHOOPING, HELICOPTER SOUND. We see
the word "Mystery" clearly as it twirls.
Instantly, it's caught in Peter Criss's hand and he brings
it down on his drum not missing a beat. The song resumes
with all its fury as Peter's drum kit ascends on a hydraulic
platform.
Jam scrambles from the stage and leaps back into the audience
barely missing the claws of some security guards.
The four friends pound on each other with unbridled, teenage
exuberance. Will it ever get any better than this?
FREEZE FRAME.
FADE TO WHITE:
THE END
