Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
FADE IN:
EXT. ABANDONED SHIPYARD - DAY
Broken down boats of various size and makes sway up to the
water's edge, rocking against the reeds at the edge of the
bay's channel.
Overgrown shrubs and reeds sprout up, dotting the football
field size yard.
Old dilapidated warehouses sit lopsided on a badly aging
boardwalk type DOCK.
DOCK
Small box like SHACK once used as an office, stands in front
of the warehouses to the edge of the dock. Reeds shoot up
tall enough to reach and partially hide the shack's front
entrance.
BARBED WIRE FENCE
In the near distance, beyond the tall barbed wire chain link
fence that surrounds the shipyard, a small RANCHER sits alone
in the wide open meadowland.
INT. SHACK - CONTINUOUS
Two men sit talking at an uncovered dusty wood table. One of
the men, the BOSS (40's) sloppy, heavy set, stubble faced, a
man without the slightest notion of morality, chumps on a
stubby cigar.
The other man, TIGGY (30's) skinny, scrubby face, looks
easily intimidated by men like the Boss, but a bully around
the weak, wears unkept, filthy clothes.
The two men play a game of cards and garble about something
that can't quite be understood and filters down to,
EXT. BENEATH DOCK, UNDER SHACK - CONTINUOUS
A little pixie girl, CAITLYN (7) tomboy, wears shorts and
summer shirt, listens to the men in the shack. Caitlyn
clutches a Sherlock Holmes size detectives magnifying glass,
and wears a Sherlock Holmes hat that nearly covers her head.
A large sleek black cat, MISS BLACKY, sits along side
Caitlyn. The cat watches Caitlyn with curious amusement.
The male voices from above, now audible, filter down under
the dock.
TIGGY (O.S.)
Hey Boss. When those Asian girls
gonna get here?
BOSS (O.S.)
Soon Tiggy. Just hold your pants.
You get any skinnier, I'll have to
tie them up with a rope.
Tiggy gives out a retarded laugh.
TIGGY (O.S.)
How much we gettin for them young
girls des time.
Caitlyn looks through her magnifying glass up at the rafters
of the dock. Miss Blacky meows.
CAITLYN
Quiet Miss Blacky.
The voices stop dead from above.
SUDDENLY
TIGGY (O.S.)
What was that Boss?
Chair legs scrapping over wood, CREAKS down below.
Caitlyn scurries to the opposite end of the dock. Miss Blacky
trots right on her heels.
Script created with Final Draft by Final Draft, Inc.
