"I Only Go Out To Westlake If I Have To"

EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING – CONTINUOUS

As helicopter rotor wash blows vegetation about, Connie roots in a large duffel bag. Bob pulls a black slate device out of a fanny pack.

BOB

You’d think they’d give us an aide or something. You know, like a stationary engineer. That’s an old joke.

He waves the device around.

BOB (cont’d)

Over there. In that little grotto.

Connie proceeds to “wire” herself with a gadget on her belt, a small headset, and a tiny satellite dish, which she points upward.

CONNIE

(looking skyward)

Hello? I sure hope this works.

CUT TO:

INT. SOYUZ III – CONTINUOUS

A Cosmonaut sips black coffee.

COSMONAUT

I shoulda gone to MIT. Couldn’t afford the tuition.

He looks out the window at his colleagues, working parked next to an ailing satellite.

CUT TO:

EXT. SPACE – CONTINUOUS

Two SPACEWALKERS have a spaghetti of fiber optics and a burnt spot on a communications satellite.

ASTRONAUT

They burnt the ‘H’ off of it, but it might still work.

ASTRONAUT #2

Here’s your patch cord. I worked with the best of the eighties big hair bands…in LA.

ASTRONAUT

Yeah, right.

EXT. OPEN AIRSPACE – CONTINUOUS

A B-2 BOMBER attempts to survey the mess in the jungle below. Suddenly, a river they are following lights-up in flames that rush downstream.

B-2 VOICE

(filtered)

That’s oil. Or gas.

B-2 RADIO VOICE

(weak, filtered)

Apparently, they’ve got a leak.

CUT TO:

EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING – CONTINUOUS

Connie has placed her dish atop a bush, and now walks in circles.

CONNIE

(to headset)

It’s a little grotto. Rockface wall of sorts. Bob’s sure it’s there. He’s what? He’s reading the Wall Street Journal. Anyway, we know it is in there, and...…

A FLASH of light interrupts her.

Two NATIVE PEOPLE appear and stand near the rock wall.

CONNIE (cont’d)

(to headset)

I got pulses of light and people appearing out of nowhere. This has even gotten Bob’s attention, and…hello? Aw, shit!

CUT TO:

INT. GERALD FORD/BRIDGE – CONTINUOUS

The entire command is drunk. CHINESE and RUSSIAN OFFICERS have joined the festivities.

U.S ADMIRAL

Every strategic bomber in the world--in the air! Do I give a damn? Hell no!

He leans forward, face flushed.

U.S. ADMIRAL (cont’d)

And you?

RUSSIAN ADMIRAL

Fuck it!

U.S. ADMIRAL

You got it, sir.

CHINESE SUB CAPTAIN

Got any American junk food?

CUT TO:

EXT. JUNGLE CLEARING – CONTINUOUS

Bob and Connie are “staring down” the natives. They hear RUSTLING in the trees behind them.

Light, Bill, and the Chinese Airman emerge, rifles slung.

Connie whirls around.

CONNIE

And..who are you guys?

BILL

I get that question a lot. Truthfully, not enough around here.

BOB

Aw, for chrissakes! I can see the uniforms. Rummage sale, or real?

LIGHT
Who are you?

Bob pulls his D.C. Driver’s License.

BOB

Aw, for God’s sake. Here’s proof I passed the driver’s test.

Bob struts toward them—-holds it out in his hand.

Light looks at it quizzically.

BOB

Guys, I’m Bob Burrman, the president’s National Security Adviser.

The Chinese Airman starts LAUGHING.

All stare at each other for a moment, as if on drugs.

BILL

Well, that’s a fine how do you do.

CUT TO:

Pardon me, T.O. "Master Planners," I wuz "brain-jacked" and looking for this on MSN
you see, Disney & Universal want my screenplays for FREE

It's a new form of comminism.
more FREE hughesscreenplay#9 tomorrow.
It's really cool!
a dollar late and dollar short. Hey WB Brandeis Jews, more FREE screenplay!
{"He's getting anti-Semitic" EVER BEEN TORTURED? Getting all racial? Wait until I stir-up the "crackers" in NC. Oh, I'm in the hall? thanks--I think}


It's the patented Hughes Switcheroo!

EXT. BURBANK LAUNDROMAT - DAY


Hughes taps on the brakes and sees a CHRYSLER 300 approaching fast to his left.
He hits the brakes hard. 


SOUND; CRUNCH.


A junky Buick has hit Hughes' Focus.
Both drivers exit.

U-GUY

I work at Universal.

HUGHES

And what is your car insurance policy number?