Lobo Script

Detective Lobo - The Scripts

In April 2012 the Blurb was contacted, out of the blue, by a Media Company.

They Loved the VirulentBlurb Universe, imagery, concepts and potential but were unsure as how to meld the world into something that would be ‘commercial.’

Hence we were given the task of creating something set inside this world that was both unique and yet coherent.

What follows is the initial response to that request. A cop story. However, a likeable lead was required. In the space of two weeks the Blurb's most popular character was born.

Detective Kurt Lobo.

Here for your enjoyment is the first ever appearance of Lobo and the first of 5 episodic scripts that are currently being manipulated and morphed in an effort to create something ‘New.’

As with all Blurb tales it adds to and takes place at the same time as the ongoing Twitter Tale. In fact, out of all the separate stories, this is the one that perhaps paints the background and complexities of this world the best.

Episodes two and three have been added to VIRULENTBLURB: FRACTURES as an added bonus.

Please…sit back, crack a bottle of Vodkacaine and enjoy….

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VirulentBlurb: City of Webs.

Mini script VER 001. By Kneel Downe. April 2012

EXT: FX Shot.

The moon. Bright. Craters shadowed. Camera lingers and then Falls.
Down. Through Orion’s belt (the only visible constellation)
Down further. A city skyline. Neon signs. To the left a firework explodes.
Down now to street level.

SOUNDS: sirens in distance. Fairground music. A party atmosphere.

The street is dusty and bleak. Brightly lit by flashing neon signs. Steam rises from gratings.
Figures approach. MARIONETTES.

C.U Painted masks. Athletic bodies of flesh and wire.
The figure cocks it’s head and holds out closed porcelain hands. The hands open and in the palm there sit’s a metallic Ladybird. VIVID RED.

Camera lingers and then plunges deep into the shifting black dots.

BLACKNESS

TITLES.
……………………………….......................................................................................

1. EXT: CITY STREET.

LONG LENS SHOT.

Flashing blue lights. Police tape. Flesh cops milling around.
A battered Police car pulls up. Old style petrol burner.
A figure exit’s the car. Wolf spliced. Long leather jacket. Trilby. Electronic cheroot in mouth.
Detective KURT LOBO.

Dust is falling like a light snow shower. (Always the dust)
Steam billows from gratings.

C.U
DETECTIVE KURT LOBO: “Well bless my shitty life!”

A slight figure rushes up. Rat spliced. Geldof. Lieutenant.

GELDOF: “Kurt”

LOBO: “What we got?”

GELDOF: “The usual boss…Just another splicing.”

LOBO: “It’s the time of year for it. This Damn carnival sends the Dead Heads crazy.”

They exchange knowing looks.

O.O.V: “HEY LOBO! They found that scummy P.I brother of yours yet?”
(muffled laughter)

WIDE SCREEN: A group of Flesh Cops. Pristine in black leather combat suits. Shields pinned to breast. Gleaming. Ferret spliced.
One is laughing. Ugly gash on his forehead.

LOBO removes his cigar. Contemplates. Spits phlegm on the dusty street.

LOBO: “Not yet Patterson…but hell, we aint checked your wife’s bed yet.”

(LAUGHTER)

Patterson steps forward. Bristling.
LOBO tenses.
A Rhino spliced cop steps between them. Glowers at Patterson.
Patterson, backing down.
Rhino turns.

RHINO: “Kurt.”

LOBO: “Jim”

The rhino cocks a hand upwards.

RHINO: “They’re waiting for you boss. Watch yourself…place is crawling with SHADES.”

LOBO replaces his cigar and sighs.

LOBO: “Like shit on a fucking shovel.”

He turns and beckons to GELDOFF.

LOBO: “Come on kid. Let’s go play nice.”

They enter the building’s neon lined entrance.

………………………………......................................................................................

2. INT: VICTIMS APPARTMENT.

WIDESCREEN.

Luxurious apartment. Main room illuminated by bright white lights mounted on tripods.
Adjoining room is dark.
Computer terminal sits on oak desk. Shelves lined with ornaments and pieces of Tech.
On the floor, a body. Covered by a silver sheet (half tinfoil half plastic)
Standing over it is a man in a shimmering grey suit. Slight trace of Snake splice. Skin lightly scaled. His suit bears the logo of The New Dawn - a Pyramid and Sun.
LOBO enters the room followed by GELDOF.
LOBO stiffens at the sight of the man. SYLVIAN.

SYLVIAN: “Ah, the city’s feral finest! Welcome Detective Lobo. We can all rest easy now your particular talents are brought to the case.”

(Oily…Sarcastic)

LOBO: “Sylvian? I thought I smelt something a little too….sweet.”

SYLVIAN smiles coldly.

SYLVIAN: “How kind…Well im afraid you wont find anything here Detective. My men have already done a clean sweep.”

In the darkened room next door something heavy shifts.
A glimpse of a hidden shape. Vaguely humanoid. Spider shaped. An arm. Spiky furred and tipped by glinting blade.

LOBO: “You use the term MEN loosely, Snake.”


SYLVIAN stiffens. Cold.

SYLVIAN: “Ah yes, the Pyramid is well aware of your views..KOPEK!” (Turkish for dog)

LOBO ignores the insult.
He gestures to the body.

LOBO: “Well this is all nice and cosy but there is just one thing you could do for me.”

SYLVIAN opens his hands in a mock helpful gesture. Scaled palms spread wide.

SYLVIAN: “Of course?”

LOBO pulls on his cigar. Bright warm glow.

LOBO: “You can get your scaly corporate ass out of my fucking crime scene!”

A glinting smile. Head slightly inclined. SYLVIAN turns, one pointy booted foot coming down hard on a finger protruding from beneath the silver sheet.

AUDIBLE CRACK.

SYLVIAN: “My apologies Detective…PLEASE, weave your dubious wonders.”

He bows and retreats to the corner of the room. Sardonic smile touching his lips.

Bending down low, LOBO removes the sheet.
A male. Rabbit splice. Fur short, well groomed and white. Black well cut suit.
The throat has been torn out. The red is bright. Unreal.

LOBO grunts.

LOBO: “What do we know?”

GELDOF. Nervous and a little clumsy. He shoots a sideways glance at the darkened room.

GELDOF: “Leviticus Carroll…self employed wet wire consultant. Bit of a loner. Says here he was something of a poet….”

LOBO barks a laugh. Cruel.

LOBO: “Well it seems pretty words aint no match for old fashioned claws.”

He gestures to the gaping wound. Nano flies already buzzing.

LOBO: “So why no…?”

GELDOF: “Records show he stopped taking his ReGen two months ago…his insurance is void.”

LOBO sighs. Exasperated.

LOBO: “Damn Purity crowd. When will fuckers wise up?”

LOBO glances around the room. Keen eye. Taking everything in.
Shelves full of translucent globes. All broken and shattered.

LOBO: “Noonian Spheres? Over twenty I’d say. The guy liked to fly.”

GELDOF indicates the nearest. Still half whole. A slight purple hue to the sphere.

GELDOF: “This one was still warm…looks like they caught him mid dream.”

LOBO sniffs and begins pacing the room. Inspecting objects. Peering at the computer terminal.

LOBO: “Anything missing?”

GELDOF holds up an electronic pad. Digits scroll and dance on its screen.

GELDOF: “Itemizer says everything’s still here. Credits, jewellery. Everything. There is one thing though…”

LOBO alert.

LOBO: “Tell me.”

GELDOF indicates the large mirror sealed into the wall. It is surrounded by circuitry and pulsing coloured tubes.

GELDOF: “Mirrorcam was disabled two hours ago but we did get this.”

He leans over and pushes a purple winking button.

C.U The mirror springs to life playing a recorded scene. The Rabbit, preening before the mirror. Dressed in the clothes the body now wears. He pauses and reaches into an inside pocket…removes a large pocket watch. An Antique piece. He stares at it thoughtfully. Polishes it on his sleeve and replaces it carefully. He turns away.
The feed fizzles and fades to black.

GELDOF - O.O.V “We cant find the watch.”

WIDESCREEN

LOBO scratches his chin. Shakes his head.

LOBO: “So he was diced for a watch?”

GELDOF: “We’re treating it as opportunistic Chief. A spur of the moment theft. Maybe a memento?”

There is a disturbance at the doorway. A small plump figure enters the room. White lab coat buttoned up haphazardly. Flecked with blood. Mouse spliced. Nervous and twitchy. Wire rimmed glasses perched on quivering nose.

LOBO: “Dorian.”

DORIAN: “Detective Lobo.”

LOBO: “So…forensics got anything for me?”

DORIAN glances at SYLVIAN and sideways at the adjoining room.
Nervous cough.

DORIAN: “The murderer entered the room via the door. As far as we can tell a sentient viral code was used. Time of death is logged as between 60 and 95 minutes. All the Noonian Spheres have been shattered and Flash wiped for good measure. We’ve found heavy traces of…”

LOBO holds up a hand. Interrupting. He slowly rotates in place. Taking in the scene.
The camera rotates with him.
(Back to WIDESCREEN)

He pauses and crouches next to the body.
One clawed finger wipes a trail cross the floor.
He brings it to his nose. Sniffs hard. Places it to his lips. Tastes.
Eyes narrow.

LOBO: “Weasel.”

DORIAN: “Yes. Heavy traces. Plus DNA spirals of scattered faecal matter.”

LOBO: “A wall jumper?”

DORIAN: “It would seem so…although there is one more unexplained…”

Again LOBO interrupts. Loudly. He shoots DORIAN a knowing look.

LOBO: “I think we’ve got it all, mouse. Seems pretty obvious to me. Weasel outsider. Probably crazed with hunger. Jumps the wall and follows the first meat trail he catches. The splice is unstable…most of them have gone loco out there in the wastelands. The watch? Hell, he probably didn’t even think about it. They like shiny shit.”

O.O.V (CLAPPING)

CAMERA PANS OUT WIDER.

SYLVIAN. Clapping sarcastically.

SYLVIAN: “Bravo Detective. Another case cracked in record time! However we could have told you all this earlier.”

LOBO scowls.

LOBO: “Cept we’ve still got this little thing called justice. The Pyramid seem to forget this.”

SYLVIAN smiles. Cold. Mock apologetic.

SYLVIAN: “Of course Detective…and justice must be SEEN to be done.”

He emphasizes SEEN. Heavy and mocking.
They are playing an oft repeated game.

LOBO ignores him. Turns his back and addresses the room in general.

LOBO: “Case closed. You’ll have my report by midnight…Someone get this meat outta here.”

He turns to leave but stops to speak to an uniformed Ferret guarding the door.

LOBO: “And put out an all points for this weasel. Make sure the patrols are packing Hypno-Shades…we don’t want this fucker dancing anyone else to death.”

LOBO exit’s the room. GELDOF and DORIAN follow.
From the darkened room is heard a soft hissing. A rattling noise.

SYLVIAN grins.
……………………………….......................................................................................

3. INT: STAIRWELL.

LOBO is charging down the stairs. GELDOF and DORIAN straining to keep up. The mouse is stumbling.
A faulty fluorescent tube casts the scene in a disquieting, flickering light.

DORIAN: “But Kurt…I..”

LOBO…over his shoulder.

LOBO: “I know!! Zip it. Walls have legs…you know what I’m saying?”

(ANGRY)

DORIAN: “Yes, but Chief…there’s something else…”

LOBO stops and spins. Glowering.

LOBO: “Spill mouse.”

DORIAN, panting. Rests his hands on his knees. Bent over. Catching his breath.

DORIAN: “It’s the children Kurt…The EYELESS…”

LOBO tenses. A Shudder?

DORIAN: “80 minutes ago they all started screaming. They still haven’t stopped.”
……………………………….......................................................................................

4. EXT: OUTSIDE THE BUILDING. FX SHOT.

WIDESCREEN.

LOBO, DORIAN and GELDOF exit the building.
LOBO throws the car keys to GELDOF.

LOBO: “You’re driving kid…Get in.”

They enter the car.
Moments later it reverses onto the street. Straightens and then screeches away.
DORIAN watches them go.

CAMERA PANS OUT.

The building in full.
The skyline dominated by a vast Pyramid. Lit by searchlights. On its side the NEW DAWN LOGO etched in neon.
Fireworks explode in the sky.

On the side of the building a scuttling, black, unholy Spider shape.
It pauses.

WATCHING.
……………………………….......................................................................................

5. INT: CAR - THROUGH THE WINDSCREEN.

GELDOF is driving. Lips moving.
LOBO stares out through the side window. Lost in thought.
Strange sights and sounds of the city pass by.
Moth boys entranced by Halogen street lights. Globes glowing.
Snatches of Carnival goers.
Lurid flashing signs offering pleasures varied.

VOICEOVER: LOBO.

The kid’s nervous. I can taste his sweat glands. He stinks of piss and sudden realisations. Babbling to ignore the things we both know. That’s fine…I let him rant. Somethings are best left unsaid.
Outside the City does her thing. Spilling lunatics onto her dusty streets.
The Carnival clogs her arteries so we take the back streets. Perps and Pervs melt into satin doorways at our passing.
I consider visiting Mother, chatting with that polished bone but the radio squawks about a closure at The Halls of the Dead intersection…seems the whole damn place has gone haywire tonight.
Sometimes I swear if our mad mistress was not so damp and dust clogged we would all go up in fucking flames.
I’m thinking about a shot of Vodkacaine as the kid hangs a left. We splash past Vapour Park. And I wonder at the crowd still camped out. Hopeful, blank faces…
Two years gone now but still they wait.
Who can blame them?
If this shitty Gar-Pit has taught me anything it’s that things always come back…

ALWAYS.
………………………………......................................................................................

6. EXT: OLD BUILDING. LOBO’S BLOCK.

WIDESCREEN.

Police car pulls up. LOBO climbs out. Stretches old bones and glances back at the car. The window is open.

VOICEOVER: LOBO: “My back’s popping Napalm. Age sitting heavy tonight. The electric smoke rests dank in my mouth. I turn back to the car. Kid’s ready to pop. I reckon we’re far enough away so I lean to the window and he says…”

C.U.

GELDOF: “But Chief…there’s something I just don’t get.”

LOBO: “How did a nomad weasel get hold of a sentient viral code? The Wastelands aren’t exactly stocked with shops.”

GELDOF blinks confusion.

GELDOF: “Yeah, how come you..?”

LOBO: “Let it ride? I value my skin kid…You’d do well to do the same.”

He pauses. (In the distance a siren and the explosive crump of more fireworks)

LOBO: “Thing that bugs me is why they sprayed the joint with Synth-DNA…if that was a real weasel he woulda stunk to heavens high…”

They exchange a look. LOBO straightens and bangs the car roof.

LOBO: “Take a hike kid…and keep it zipped. I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turns as the car pulls away. Raising an acknowledging hand as the horn beeps farewell.

O.O.V. (A shouted insult from the side streets)

VOICE: “Hey…HUND! Eat my fucking shit, cop!”

(Laughter - receding)

LOBO: “Home sweet home.”

He moves towards the doorway.
………………………………......................................................................................

7. EXT: A BUSY STREET. THE CARNIVAL IN FULL FLOW.

WIDESCREEN. F.X HEAVY.

Dirty sidewalks packed with figures. Splices and species galore. Dog boys and Kitten girls. Reptile vendors selling roasting meat.
In the middle of the street marches a parade.
The CARNIVAL of the DEAD. A week long celebration.

Marionettes come dancing - cold and surreal.
Running alongside them a mix of figures, hawking their wares.
Trinkets gleaming. Dream cages woven from wire. Glowing spheres and strange electronic devices.

A RAVEN approaches. Jet black feathers. Multi-coloured patchwork cloak flapping. Ring masters top hat perched on his head. (There is a touch of VOODOO about him)
In his hands he holds a bronze metallic casket. Square. Scrawled with digits and arcane runes.

RAVEN: “Roll up! Roll up! Roll up ladies and germs! Come…place your heads inside the Deadbox. One size fits all…Roll up! Roll up! Say hello to your dear old dad!”

Fire jugglers wander past. Blazing balls spinning.
A Phosphorous breather darts forward, sucking hard on a tiny silver globe. Head bent back he spews clouds of glowing, sparking particles high into the air.

Through the crowd wander three figures.
A young woman. Red hair spilling over cracked synthetic leather jacket.
A DROID. Crude smooth features. Grill mouth. Battered and scarred.
A young girl. Hair, a mess of Peacock feathers. Almost elfin.

The RAVEN beckons.

RAVEN: “Hey! Little chica. You wanna take a ride? Come, come see. What’s the matter? You’re not afraid are you?”

She moves towards him. Eyes full of wonder.

Sudden disturbance. The crowd parts to allow a Wolf Splice to barge his way through.
Ripped jacket. One ankle busted. He trails blood behind him.
LOBO’S brother. LYCA. Private eye.

He pushes people aside. SNARLING.

LYCA: “Get the fuck outta my way Dead Beats!”
……………………………….....................................................................................

8. EXT: DOORWAY TO LOBO’S BUILDING.

C.U

SOUND: Incessant beeping.

LOBO raises his left wrist. Consults the flashing communicator.
Punches a button.

SPLIT SCREEN: COMIC BOOK STYLE.
ONE PANEL AT TOP LEFT OF SCREEN
SECOND AT BOTTOM RIGHT OF SCREEN
BEHIND THE PANELS - RANDOM SCENES OF THE CITY PLAY OUT.
PANEL ONE (LEFT) LYCA.

Dirty room. LYCA is crouching. Wrapping bandages around his broken ankle.
He speaks into his wrist.

LYCA: “Brother?”

PANEL TWO (RIGHT) LOBO.

Wrist held to his pointed ear.

LOBO: “Lyca? What have you done now?”

LYCA: (Guttural, bubbling laugh)

LYCA: “Nothing that plasti-flesh and a shot of Vodkacaine wont fix.”

LOBO: “What do you need?”

LYCA: “It’s what you need Bro…The Rabbit case, right? Leave it…Walk away. The shit has hit so many fans you could drown.”

LOBO: “You know I cant do that.”

LYCA: “ Ha…I know you WONT do Bro…You don’t know what’s going down Kurt. They wont hesitate to take the chance to scrub you out.”

LOBO. Short laugh.

LOBO: “Reckon I’ve never been too scared of Snakes, brother!”

LYCA: “Sylvian? Shit man, this goes higher than that. You’ve been in the Pyramid Bro, you KNOW what lives there…Something’s been stolen Kurt. Something big…”

LOBO narrows his eyes - a noticeable shudder?

LOBO: “I’ll play it frosty kid…get yourself somewhere safe.”

LYCA stops. Nervous. Alert. He stares off camera. Lurches to his feet..

LYCA: “Gotta go Bro…I’ll be in touch.”

Disconnection.

SCREEN MORPHS BACK TO FULLSCREEN.

LOBO. Staring at the doorway.
Looks at the floor.
Pulls hard on his cigar.

Mind made up he turns away and stalks into the night.

LOBO: “Holy fucking shit!”
………………………………......................................................................................

9. EXT: THE STREET. SHOP FAÇADE. VIOLETS SUICIDES MOD SHOP. GAUDY NEON SIGNS.

WIDESCREEN.

Two laughing people wander past. Arm in arm. Cat spliced.
LOBO enters the scene. Screen left.
He pauses. Pulls down his trilby. Sighs
Reaches for door handle and enters.
………………………………......................................................................................
10. INT: VIOLET SUICIDES MOD SHOP.

SOUNDS: Buzzing and whining of drills. The noise of tattoo guns.

C.U LOBO enters the shop. Eyes squint in the bright light.

WIDESCREEN.

A young man - some kind of dog splice - is on his knees, cleaning up a thick black liquid. He is trying to scoop it into a glass container. It rolls and snakes away from his attempts. Like mercury.
A woman stands close by, laughing at his efforts.
Ageless and sensual. Bird spliced many times. Her hair is a shower of Black, Red and Purple feathers. An odd flash of Gold.
VIOLET SUICIDE.

She sees LOBO and smiles.

VIOLET: “Lobezno!” (young wolf)

LOBO is slightly embarrassed. Touches the brim of his hat.

LOBO: “Hola Chick….you had an accident?”

VIOLET: “The INK got a little agitated earlier today. We lost a bottle.”

The Dog splice curses softly on the floor.

LOBO: “Odd…I thought it was stable?”

VIOLET shrugs. Her feathers rustle.

VIOLET: “Shit happens. Been working this stuff 80 years and it still surprises me.”

She glances coyly at LOBO.
There is history between them.

VIOLET: “So what brings you to my sordid pit, Kurt? You getting that dusky splice of yours upgraded?”

He ignores her playing. Serious. Grunts.

LOBO: “Business Violet. Got a dicing. Seems he may have been one of yours. Wire wizard…Name of Carroll.”

VIOLET pauses. Looks a little shocked.

VIOLET: “Leveticus? Really? Shit…well, I guess he was kind of wealthy.”

LOBO: “Wasn’t a robbery, as far as we can tell. Straight Slice and Dice…What can you tell me about him?”

She wanders over to the counter. Shaking her head. Punches buttons on the neat computer terminal.

VIOLET: “Not too much. Nice guy. Pretty quiet. Very insistent about his splice. Cost a fortune to find Rabbit White…damn good poet too…went to see him once.”

LOBO snorts. Scratches behind his ear.

LOBO: “Never had much time for fancy words myself.”

She smiles. Lowers her gaze.

VIOLET: “Seems to me I remember some pretty sweet syllables…”

A moments heavy silence. From the nearest booth, the sound of a drill and a muffled curse.

LOBO: “So…”

VIOLET: “Come to think of it he did get a little strange recently. Cancelled two appointments last minute…that’s all I know.”

LOBO looks unimpressed. He is uncomfortable and ready to leave. He glances at the door.

LOBO: “OK, thanks for the time Violet. You think of anything else…you know my digits.”

He turns to go. On the floor the Dog swears again.

VIOLET: “The Forgetting Rooms.”

LOBO: “Huh?”

VIOLET: “It’s where he used to hang. Performed sometimes…ask for the Hat man, they were tight.”

LOBO: “Hat man? The fuck is that?”

VIOLET: “A man, Kurt. He wears hats…they’ll know who you’re after.”

LOBO shakes his head. Weary. He reaches for the door handle.

LOBO: “Thanks chick. Look after yourself.”

Door open.
VIOLET sighs and speaks to her assistant.

VIOLET: “Better scrub his INK session Rex…he wont be needing it now.”

LOBO stops. Frozen.
He turns, suddenly interested.

LOBO: “He had INK? Where?”

VIOLET: “Left shoulder blade…never saw the point myself but you know, whatever.”

She pauses. Quizzical.

VIOLET: “Why?”

LOBO shakes his head. Half smile.
He turns to leave again.
Over his shoulder.

LOBO: “Nothing chick…just a hunch.”
……………………………….......................................................................................

11. INT: THE PYRAMID.

Screen fades in from black to crackling grey - to black and white. A jolt and colour floods in.

WE ARE THE CAMERA:

A corridor. We move slowly down it.
Rooms on either side. Metal doors. Numbered. The walls are a sterile white.

SOUNDS: Roars. Screams. The grinding of metal gears. Buzzing. Whining. A constant low babble of nonsense words. Insanity.

We pass room 754 - linger - A thumping from within.
Move slowly. More doors.

At the end of the corridor - Room 700 - The numbering system is jumbled. Makes no sense.

The camera passes through the door. A moment of blackness. Light.
The room is lit with a greenish hue.
The floor is littered with bones.
Tubes and wires line the walls.
In the centre is a podium. Upon it sit’s a glass tank. It holds a dirty, stained Human Skull.
The Skull is babbling non stop.

SKULL: “Sector 47. Rice and mice. Sophie is dreaming again…leather coats in section 8. The flies...the flies...George is screaming…UNHEALTHY thoughts…needles extended…Sandra is plotting…”

Camera moves to the corner. A view screen flickers.
Before it - seen from behind - a monstrosity. Man shaped. Dressed in Black leather. 8 arms bursting from the split, ripped suit. Black, bristly short fur.
Stained with fluids. Brown. Yellow. Blood?

THE SCARECROW.

He speaks to the screen.

SCARECROW: “Find it! Find them. Do not rest until you have it…FIND IT! Burn them. Destroy them…but bring me the eyes.”
……………………………….......................................................................................

12. INT: THE PRECINCT. CORRIDOR.

WIDESCREEN.

LOBO strides down the corridor. Seen from behind. The décor is old. Peeling paint. At the end of the corridor is a door. The Morgue.
In front of it stands a plump Rabbit spliced guard. Dishevelled. Almost nodding off.
He straightens as LOBO approaches.

GUARD: “Detective?”

LOBO grunts.

GUARD: “What can I do for you sir?”

LOBO picks at a tooth. Calm. Slow.

LOBO: “You can look the other way Bright Eyes…you can forget.”

They stare at each other.
No contest. The guard’s shoulders slump and he steps aside.

GUARD: “Guess I could use a caffeine juice.”

LOBO: “Reckon so.”

The guard wanders away.
LOBO pushes the door.
We enter with him.
……………………………….......................................................................................

13. INT: THE MORGUE.

WIDESCREEN.

Silence. Somewhere something drips. Slow. Regular.
The room is full of covered bodies on trolleys.
In the middle is a stained steel slab. Instruments hang from it’s side.

LOBO walks the bodies. Locates the one he is after. Pulls back the sheet.
The Rabbit.

VOICEOVER LOBO: “The place is dead…and there’s a joke that never stops giving. I turn the guy over and he makes that bad smell. Furs all matted with red. I focus and reach into my pocket. Electric razor. The buzz makes my fingers hum…left shoulder blade? I’m going in.”

He carefully shaves the spot.
White fur piles on the trolley.
Stops.
The LIVING INK tattoo.

VOICEOVER LOBO: “ As I figured, the ink’s left me a message. My heart thumps…kinda wish I’d stayed at home…”

C.U The Tattoo.

The ink has formed the word MURDER.
Underneath is a crudely drawn SPIDER.
Beneath that a single word…RUN.

LOBO replaces the sheet. Pauses for a moment.
Thinking.
Mind made up he grabs the trolley and pushes it over to a blackened steel door.
The incinerator.
He opens the door and tips the body and sheet onto a low platform.
Slams the door and pushes a large red button.

SOUNDS: The sudden ‘Whumpf’ of flames.

VOICEOVER LOBO: “I spray the handles and button with FORAMIX…now you see me, now you don’t. Despite the flames I feel cold. Cold and old. My back curses me with sharp whiteness. Take a drag…doesn’t help…I get the fuck out of there.”
………………………………......................................................................................

14. INT: THE FORGETTING ROOMS.
Bar/music venue.

C.U. LOBO enters the bar. The camera watches him pass and then follows him. Switch to

WIDESCREEN.

The venue is packed with splices of every kind.
Dogs, cats, lizards and birds.
The band has finished for the night . A Walrus spliced DJ is playing music. LOUD. Strange Rock/Techno mixture.

LOBO approaches the bar.
The bar DROID acknowledges him. More humanoid than most droids. Expressive plastic skin.

DROID: “Good evening detective. The usual?”

LOBO grabs a stool. Sits. Grunts.

LOBO: “Make it a triple.”

The droid reaches for a bottle and glass.
LOBO surveys the room. The droid pushes the glass towards him.
LOBO downs it in one.

LOBO: “Carroll. White rabbit splice. What do you know?”

Droid cocks his head. Thoughtful.

DROID: “I’m afraid I have not seen him for a few days detective.”

LOBO: “No shit…His pal. The Hat guy…you seen him?”

LOBO indicates his glass. The droid takes it and refills. On his wrist is an ugly steel bracelet. A SERVO-LOCK.

DROID: “The Hatter was here earlier. He did not stay long. He seemed, how can I say, nervous?”

LOBO: “What do you know about him? Friends? Job?”

DROID: “Magpie spliced. I believe he used to work for the Pyramid until a few days ago. He is usually here with a young lady. She was here earlier but I seem to have lost track of her…oh, and a boy. Daniel I believe.”

LOBO stares deep into his glass. Lost in thought.

LOBO: “What do they get up to? What’s their story?”

The droid smiles. False and uncanny.

DROID: “They are poets detective…they play games with words. Obsessed with finding an universal truth in syllables and sounds.”

LOBO snorts.

LOBO: “Crazies…chasing shadows in the dark.”

DROID: “But detective…are we all not chasing something? Truth? Words? Freedom?…Clues? I have heard it said that some of us are chasing codes…the ultimate codes.”

They stare at each other.
Unspoken things.
LOBO gets to his feet and turns to leave.

LOBO: “Thanks.”

DROID: “No tip detective?”

LOBO spins and grabs the droid’s arm. Holds the SERVO-LOCK up to the light.

LOBO: “I got a tip Pinocchio…fix some god damn flashing diodes in this piece of shit…even my rookies can spot a fake.”

He releases the wrist.
The droid bows its head.

DROID: “You are too kind Mr Lobo.”

LOBO snarls. Fangs exposed.

LOBO: “That’s me…I’m all fucking heart.”
………………………………......................................................................................

15. EXT: CITY STREET.

WIDESCREEN.

The RAVEN is walking before us. Strange dancing steps. He is chattering to himself and shaking a purse full of credits. The DEAD BOX is held beneath his left arm.

C.U. The RAVEN, passing a doorway. An arm reaches out and pulls him into the doorway. Grabbed around the neck.
RAVEN squawks.

It is LOBO. He pushes RAVEN into a deserted and dirty unused shop. He slams the door and spins round.

WIDESCREEN.

RAVEN is jumpy. Twitchy.

RAVEN: “Mr Lobo sir…it wasn’t me…I swear, man…I was nowhere near there…”

LOBO: “You’re a tad jumpy Bird. Not pleased to see me?”
He advances on the RAVEN. RAVEN backs away.
Placating hand gestures.

RAVEN: “Lobo sir…detective man…of course I is pleased…I’ma just going home boss…long night, man…you know?”

SILENCE.
LOBO drags on his cigar.
Eyes the RAVEN up and down.

LOBO: “Your box…I need it…give it me.”

RAVEN shakes his head. Looking around for a way out.

RAVEN: “Mr Lobo sir, I would but there was this girl…little feather bitch…she done gone fucked it up boss…I mean big fucked. Outsider she was…could smell it on her…should never let those types in to the…”

LOBO flicks his wrist - a small egg shaped pod falls into his hand. He squeezes it and with a shriek a solid humming baton appears. The SONIC BATON…solid sound.

He brings it down on a dusty table.
The table shatters.
RAVEN jumps.

LOBO: “You WILL give me the box Bird…look at me…you looking? Good…I know it’s unlicensed and you know what? Right now I don’t give a flying fuck…you give it to me…you take your sorry feathered ass home and I give it you back tomorrow…no questions…”

RAVEN stares - confused.
LOBO bares his teeth. Waves the baton.

LOBO: “You see how this is going down Bird? You get it?”

RAVEN nods his head. Dust blows in through a broken window.

LOBO: “The box…me…give!”

Broken the RAVEN puts the DEAD BOX on the floor.
He shoots LOBO a frightened look and scurries to the door.

LOBO: “Shut the door on your way out.”

Door slams.

C.U. LOBO’s face. Resigned. Scared?

Camera pulls out. LOBO kneels and caresses the bronze skin of the box.
He pushes at the arcane symbols.
With a hiss the box opens. It is lined with tubes and wires.
LOBO sighs and moves his face towards it.

FX HEAVY:
The box elongates. The inside stretches to accommodate the size and shape of his head.
Sharp, thin, silver needles protrude from the inside.
He places his head inside.

The box swings shut around his head with a clang.
……………………………….....................................................................................

16. THE DEAD ZONE: FX HEAVY.

Blackness. Slowly LOBO fades into view.
Confused. Standing in nothing.
Slowly a scene forms.
A corridor of black shiny glass. The unseen lighting is a soft white.

The CAMERA zooms into LOBO.
We become LOBO’s point of view.

At the end of the corridor something hops towards us.
A White Rabbit. As it gets closer it becomes more and more humanoid, until as it stands before us it is the dead White Rabbit Carroll.
His throat flaps open.
Raw and red.

CARROLL: “Where is this? Who are you? Have you come to eat me?

LOBO’S VOICE: “You’re dead kid…I’m here to find out why.”

CARROLL: (confused) “Why am I so cold? I have…I have a recital…I’m ready to go.”

He pats his pocket.

CARROLL: “Oh my…my watch? Where’s my watch?

LOBO: “Listen to me kid. It’s a bitch I know but you’re dead. This afternoon. I’m sorry but I gotta know what happened…they took your watch. Why?”

CARROLL is not listening. He is panicked. Patting his coat.
He stops suddenly and turns to the right…looking at something we cant see.

CARROLL: “Oh…the door. They’re coming in the door…how did you? Oh, oh, oh GOD NO…”

We see LOBO’S arms. He tries to hold CARROLL but his hands pass through him like water. Causing ripples.
CARROLL is screaming.
He turns. Flailing. And runs back down the corridor.

CARROLL: “My watch! My watch….I must find my watch!”

LOBO: “KID! Wait…”

With a shattering noise the scene cracks, splinters and flies away…

A barren, blasted hillside. Red angry sky.
A figure stands before us. Clad in black leather.
Seen from the right hand side.
A cat splice.
Long black hair. Beautiful.
KATRINA (LOBOS dead wife)

LOBO: “Aww no…fucking no.”

She turns to face us.
There is a wide hole in her stomach - we can see straight through it.
The skin on her left cheek and neck is missing. Red angry flesh.
Her eyes are full of sorrow.

KATRINA: “Oh Kurt…you swore to me you wouldn’t come…”

LOBO: “I didn’t kitten…Kat…I’m, I’m on a case…”

KATRINA: “You look so tired my love…”

LOBO: “Kat…I…”

KATRINA: “ Tell me Kurt…did we get him? Did he pay?”

LOBO: “Yeah Kitten…we got him…he paid good…”

She smiles and then glances at her hands, confused.
Smoke begins to rise from them.
From all her body.

KATRINA: “Oh…oh KURT…it is coming…He is coming…they have stolen the code my love…they have set it loose…”

Tiny yellow flames flicker to life on her body.

LOBO: “KAT?!”

KATRINA: “But it’s too late Kurt…it’s too late…we’re burning Kurt…”

LOBO: “NO….NO!”

KATRINA: “He is coming my love…soon everything will burn…”

She bursts into flame - a human torch.
There is a mighty roar and the ground shakes.
Over the brow of the hill looms a gigantic dreadful figure.
A Demon. Made of flame. Horns. Deep set black eyes.

It sees us and sweeps a burning claw towards us…
……………………………….....................................................................................

17. INT: THE DESERTED SHOP.

WIDESCREEN.

LOBO pulls his head back.
Screaming.
The box falls to the floor. Open.
Blood pricks mark his face.

Shaking. Sobbing he burrows his head in his hands.

LOBO: “Dear god…shit…what have they done?”

FADE TO BLACK.

FIN.


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