AngelAngel 1x02bis Corrupt - Read The Lost Script
Monday 26 April 2004, by Webmaster
Corrupt, written by David Fury, was supposed to be the second episode of the television series Angel. Two days before production would’ve began, shooting was ordered not to commence because The WB thought the episode was too dark. You’ll notice that this script and the actual second episode ("Lonely Hearts," also written by David Fury,) have many things in common. Other parts of the script have since been cannibalized and used in other Angel episodes. This is the writer’s draft.
EXT. THE CITY - NIGHT - AERIAL SHOT
Remember the opening shot in the pilot? Just like that. Only, this time, the voice we hear belongs to:
Okay, we fade up on an aerial shot.
Downtown skyscrapers, lights, yada
yada... We hear a narrator, preferably
famous. Maybe that bald Star Trek
guy or one of the cheaper Baldwins.
Says something like:
(attempting deeper, raspier voice)
"It’s a big, bad city out there..."
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
A lovely pair of legs stroll down the sidewalk.
Cut to a woman walking down a dark,
spooky street. Alone. We’ll cast some
beautiful young actress.
TRAVEL UP the gams to reveal it’s CORDELIA, dressed and made-up at her best. A purse slung over her shoulder.
Maybe an up-and-coming starlet
whose career is on the verge of
taking off. Anyway, she’s all nervous,
right? Mucho vulnerable. The voice guy says:
"Danger lurks around every corner."
She looks over her shoulder, then turns back to find herself face to face with a huge, muscle bound THUG. He grabs the strap of her purse. She struggles.
Boom. She’s attacked by a big, ugly
goon with a knife...
The thug produces a SWITCHBLADE and waves it, menacingly.
(her onscreen counterpart mouthing the words)
"Help! Is there no one to help me!"
"You need someone to watch out for
you. That someone is here..."
Cordelia and the thug react as they become aware of an OFF-SCREEN GLOW. They turn to see
ANGEL — framed in an alleyway, lit dramatically, heroically. His long coat waving cape-like in the sudden night wind. Oh yeah, there’s a SUDDEN NIGHT WIND.
Deftly, Angel kicks the knife out of the stunned thug’s hand and up into the air, then grabs the punk’s jacket and lifts him off his feet with one hand.
CLOSE ON his outstretched other hand as the switchblade falls into it.
(narrator voice, cont.)
"He’s the Dark Avenger."
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Angel, DOYLE, and a far more casually dressed Cordelia exit the 24-hour liquor store, carrying grocery bags.
Excuse me. The Dark Avenger?
Look, I know a little something about
self-promotion, Angel, and I’m telling
you one commercial like that could
bring in a world of business.
I need to operate a little more
discreetly. Below radar.
Radar? What radar?
The police, princess. The services our
friend Angelus provides might put
some in mind of the v-word.
Yeah well, vampire vigilantes still
have to pay their bills.
Angel eyes something up ahead and speeds up.
If we have to rely on demon-boy here
to get one of his visions every time we
need a client, we’ll be broke in a month.
Stop calling me "demon-boy."
Angel holds the door of a residential building open for an elderly woman. She smiles appreciatively as she enters.
(calling after her)
Tell your friends!
Word of mouth.
(as they continue on)
I wouldn’t worry, Cordelia. Things
won’t be quiet for long.
What makes you so sure?
(a sardonic smile)
I’m the Dark Avenger. And this is L.A.
Something horrible’s always happening
to somebody somewhere.
EXT. ALLEY - NIGHT
EARL, a fortyish middle-management businessman type enters the alley, pulling NIKI, a young prostitute toward a parked Lincoln. The girl is particularly wasted and woozy.
Hey, hey, where we going? Thought we
were gonna get a room.
My car’s parked right here.
He roughly yanks her to him, leans her up against the car, nuzzling her neck. She’s too out of it to put up a fight.
C’mon, sweets. You know me. Let’s
leave out the room charge tonight, huh.
He notices her necklace, a ROUND BLACK ONYX mounted in the middle of an OVAL RUBY SETTING and hanging by a silver chain. Bisecting the stone is A JAGGED LINE OF SILVER.
This is new. Pretty.
I— I don’t feel so hot.
Here. I got a nice place for you
to lay down.
Earl opens the door and shoves her into the back seat. He takes another look around, then climbs in, both of them disappearing behind the seat.
SLOW PUSH-IN ON THE REAR WINDOW as we hear soft MOANS, LIPS ON FLESH. The car’s suspension SQUEAKS as it rocks, bounces — slowly, subtly, then VIOLENTLY!
The Lincoln lurches up and down and the quiet of the empty alley is shattered by its CAR ALARM, now BLARING loudly, its taillights FLASHING brightly. A BEASTLY SHRIEKING emanates from inside the car, coupled with HIGH-PITCHED WAILS of pain and terror — as wavelets of BLOOD splash across the window.
CUT INSIDE THE CAR - TIGHT CLOSE-UP on a pair of blood-red, ravenous, inhuman EYES darting about wildly before returning to its feeding frenzy.
Corrupt: Act 1
EXT. ANGEL’S BUILDING - DAY - ESTABLISHING
The sun hangs low as late afternoon gives way to evening.
INT. ANGEL’S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
The place has been spiffed up nicely since last we saw it. Cheap oil paintings and faded posters adorn the walls, mostly to cover the cracks. The outer office desk sports a phone, answering machine and rented refurbished computer.
On a small card table against the wall rests a slightly stained automatic drip coffee maker and a stack of styrofoam cups. Doyle’s pouring himself a cup as CORDELIA enters, excited, carrying a cardboard box.
Angel appears in the doorway of his office.
(off his blank look)
Your calling cards. We talked about this.
(refreshing his memory)
To leave with people so they’d know
how to reach you.
She’s got a point. Not like you got
a signal folks can shine in the sky.
Cordelia proudly pulls out a card and hands it to Angel.
INSERT CARD - Just a number: "213/555-3462." The card is cut into an unusual shape.
Look at that. There’s our number.
ON ANGEL as he scrutinizes the card, turning it over in his hand.
On a... butterfly?
It’s an angel!
Oh, that’s darlin’. Really precious.
Why don’t we go the whole nine-yards
and get you a little halo. Ooh, better!
Itty-bitty gold harps — you can leave
them at crime sce—
Angel and Cordelia turn to look at him.
ON STYROFOAM CUP - as Doyle’s hand clenches into a fist, hot coffee EXPLODING everywhere. Cordelia YELPS with surprise.
SFX - A LOUD WHOOSHING SOUND - like blood rushing through the heart chambers. So loud it practically drowns out:
PUSH IN ON DOYLE - his eyes pinched shut in agony. Then the lids open revealing his eyeballs rolled up into his head.
DOYLE’S POV - A series of images FLASH across his brain, accompanied by a sharp WHIPPING noise.
FLASH! Unsavory men and women loitering outside a neighborhood bar.
FLASH! The bar’s neon sign: "The Bottom"
FLASH! A young girl’s pretty, though weary, face rising into frame, wiping white powder from her nose.
THE WHOOSHING subsides and Doyle’s breathing begins to slow.
Me? Fit as a fiddle.
(holding his head)
A pain-racked fiddle.
Cordelia comes over with a couple of pills and a cup of water.
No aspirin. Midol okay?
Doyle waves her off, then produces a flask from inside his coat, takes a swig, then mutters to himself:
Couldn’t they just give me this info
with a little self-destructing tape
recorder or something?
You said "Chrystal."
Young chippy. A pro.
She’s in the entertainment industry?
Doyle gives her a look.
A prostitute. Works out of a sleaze pit
called The Bottom Bar.
Never heard of it.
Figueroa, just south of 13th Street.
Parking’s next to the check-cashing place.
The booze is a little watered down, but
it’s still worth it ’cause some of the ladies
there are choice. I mean, they got this one—
You saw all that in your vision?
Anyway, this Chrystal chick... you
gotta save her.
From what? Or who?
That’s all I got. Save her.
Angel moves off toward the elevator.
He stops and turns back to Doyle.
The girl’s walking on the edge of a razor.
Angel nods slightly then goes.
INT. ANGEL’S APT. - DUSK
A QUICK SUCCESSION OF IMAGES:
An oversized leather bound book SLAMS down onto a table. The cover reads: "City of Los Angeles - Department of Public Works."
Angel flips through pages of BLUEPRINTS. He unfolds one
A SCHEMATIC GRID depicting tunnels and sewer lines running underneath the streets.
Angel scans it, his fingers tracing the maze.
He crosses to a corner of the room and pulls up the corner of an area rug, revealing a large HINGED GRATING on the floor. He reaches down and pulls it up.
INT. SEWER - DUSK
A dank tunnel, lit only by service lights mounted where it branches off near the end.
We hear the grating CLANG shut as Angel drops down onto the damp floor. Instinctively, he glances around before starting off toward the light, his silhouette getting smaller as he walks away.
EXT. BAR - SUNSET - ESTABLISHING
CLOSE on the neon sign Doyle saw in his vision: "The Bottom." The heavy THUMPING of a hip-hop song’s bass-line emanates from within.
INT. THE BOTTOM BAR - NIGHT
It’s crowded, loud and smoky. In a rear corner is a small stairwell. Two signs bolted to the wall next to it read: "Private" and "Employees Only."
SHOOTING ACROSS the ATMOSPHERE at the bar, ANGEL leans back on his stool, into view, and looks toward the rear of the club.
ANGEL’S P.O.V. - CHRYSTAL, pretty and waifish, emerges from the stairwell. followed by a GUY buttoning up and tucking in his shirt tail. The guy mouths an awkward goodbye, then heads toward the exit as Chrystal makes her way over to a large booth.
Among those seated there is MIGGIE, Latino, lotta piercings (ears, nose, eyebrow). Another is BILLY, a brawny, bearded, biker-pimp (say that ten times fast) and standing obediently next to him is JANIE, a young prostitute - dark circles under her eyes, thin and drawn, a streak of FUCHSIA through her black hair.
Chrystal leans in over Miggie’s shoulder and discreetly passes him something. He kisses her on the cheek and sends her on her way.
ANGEL reacts as she suddenly walks toward him, ending up at the bar, a stool or two away.
(calling to BARTENDER)
Danny, I’m dying of thirst over here.
Wordlessly, Angel slides his untouched drink in front of her. She glances at it, then at him. She offers a small smile, picks up the glass, takes a sip and grimaces.
Club soda. Hey, big spender.
We on the wagon?
One day at a time.
The bartender pours her a shot glass which she throws back.
She gives him a looking over.
I know you?
Can we go some place quiet?
(another gentle smile)
Hey, you’re a nice looker and all, but
I’m kinda on a break. Check back
with me later.
MIGGIE appears behind her.
That’s not the way we treat new friends,
Chrystal. Let’s be nice to the gentleman.
C’mon, Miggie, I just got through—
Miggie just glares at her and she shuts up.
One hour, one hundred.
(off his hesitation)
That’s a great deal. A sharp-dressed
fellow like you shouldn’t have any
trouble affording that.
I just want to talk to her.
(with mock understanding)
Ohhh, you just wanna talk. Talking’s
Miggie chuckles wryly, then stops when he notices Angel holding up three folded hundred dollar bills.
(slapping the money into Miggie’s hand)
After she and I are done, she gets a
Chrystal squints at Angel, then at Miggie. The pimp stares at Angel for a moment, then slowly breaks out in a grin. He snatches the bills from Angel’s hand.
INT. CHRYSTAL’S ROOM - NIGHT
Chrystal opens the door then stands aside to let Angel enter. He takes in the small room: unmade double bed, vanity table, folding chair, not much else. As she closes the door...
He ever hurt you?
Who? Miggie? He’s not as bad as some.
What you might call a necessary evil.
I’ve run across evil before. Never once
found any to be necessary.
He casually crosses to the vanity, noticing a small hand mirror on which he can make out POWDERY REMNANTS. She squeezes in front of him, quickly intercepts the mirror, and shoves it into a drawer. Then she picks up a plastic kitchen timer and turns the dial.
So what do they call you?
She plants the timer on the table then grabs the hem of her top and starts to pull it up over her head.
She stops and looks at him.
Okay. How do you want me?
(moving toward him)
On the bed? The chair?
She comes up to him and her hands go to his chest, rubbing it. Angel lets her.
Or maybe like this? You like to be
on your feet. More in control.
She reaches around his coat, caressing his back, nuzzling him.
You’re very good at this.
Oh, yeah. I’m good at a lot of things.
Tell me what you want.
Her hands move lower. He grabs them and holds them in his.
I want to help you.
I think you’re in trouble. And maybe
you don’t know a way out.
She pulls herself away and stares at him.
But you’ll show me the way, right?
All I need do is follow the Lord’s path
and He’ll lead me from this den of the
wicked? Man! Did not have you
pegged for one of those crackpots.
Help me? Help yourself. C’mon, we’re
alone. You didn’t blow three bills just
to make a sales pitch.
She moves in one him again — touching his arm, his face, grabbing his coat, taunting him.
Don’t you like me? Don’t you want to
taste the fruit. Or did you come to
punish the fallen woman? Is that it?
Some little tramp broke your heart,
now it’s payback—?
She stops and looks at him.
Is the taunting extra? ’Cause I’m out of money.
(a wry smile)
She crosses to the bed and sits.
What are you doing here?
Angel takes a moment to consider.
Truthfully, I don’t know yet.
Uh huh. Maybe you should come
back when you do.
By then, it’ll be too late.
She studies him, with some trepidation.
Well, now... That is a dilemma.
(sensing her alarm)
Look, I’m not trying to be evasive.
Or talk in riddles. I just know what
it feels like to be trapped. Insulated
from the outside world. Existing,
You don’t know anything about me.
That’s true. But I can’t imagine you
ever wanted to end up like this.
Chrystal seems pensive, lost in thought.
Yeah, well, things don’t always end
up the way you plan.
Angel sits with her.
Nice thing about plans... You can
always make others. Trust me, I know.
I don’t trust anyone.
Maybe I can help you with that, too.
Think it over. If you need me...
He offers her one of his angel-shaped calling cards.
What is that? A lobster?
Angel crumples the card and shoves it in his pocket.
I’ll be around.
He stands and moves to the door.
Do yourself a favor... Don’t be.
He looks at her for a moment, when they’re both startled by FRANTIC POUNDING on her door and an anguished GIRL’S VOICE:
GIRL’S VOICE (O.S.)
Chrystal! Oh, god! Chrystal!!!
(rushing to the door)
She opens the door and Janie runs into her arms, sobbing and shaking.
Amber. She’s— she’s dead! Amber’s dead.
Wait, honey. Slow down.
I heard stuff. And I knocked. But she
didn’t answer. And the door was open
and there was blood everywhere and
she was— oh, god.
Dazed, Janie notices him for the first time.
Over at the Mercer.
He gently ushers her out. Janie looks back at Chrystal.
It’s okay, Janie. I’m with you.
EXT. MERCER HOTEL - NIGHT - ESTABLISHING
Not one of your newer, nicer, establishments.
INT. HOTEL HALLWAY - NIGHT
The walls are marred with water stains, peeling wallpaper.
Angel, Chrystal and Janie arrive at a hotel room door.
There. In there.
Angel notices the door is slightly ajar. He gestures for Chrystal and Janie to wait and slowly pushes the door open.
INT. HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
The room’s dark as we see Angel’s silhouette in the doorway. He reaches over and flicks on the light. His eyes scan the room as he steps inside. Chrystal appears behind him.
(in the hall)
No, I can’t...
Chrystal gently takes her hand and Janie cautiously enters, her eyes widen with shock.
REVERSE ANGLE revealing the room is CLEAN — immaculate, in fact. A made bed, polished floor, dust-free furniture.
(stepping into the room)
But... she was here. I saw her.
Parts of her. And the blood...
There was all this blood.
As Chrystal comforts her, a FIGURE in the hall appears in the foreground. Janie GASPS.
What the hell’s this?
NEW ANGLE - Janie runs to embrace BILLY, the pimp from Miggie’s table at the bar.
Billy! I was looking for you. I-
Amber— She’s— I mean, I think she’s—
Amber? Amber’s working a job across
town. What are you running your mouth
She said someone was murdered here.
Billy eyes Angel, sizing him up.
She’s a junkie. Her brain’s scrambled.
Who the hell are you?
Before Angel can answer...
He’s with me, Billy. Just a customer.
Yeah? Then get him outta here.
Show’s over, friend. Nothing to see.
As Angel exits the room, he comes nose to nose with Billy.
Chrystal gestures for Janie to come with her.
(steps between them)
Janie’s on the clock. And so are you.
Back to work before Miggie finds out.
Angel and Chrystal continue down the hall. Billy watches them go.
PUSH IN on him. We hear an ominous DRONE, getting louder.
MATCH CUT TO:
INT. INNER SANCTUM - NIGHT
CLOSE ON BILLY - as he places a ceremonial shroud (a cloth with numerous markings and symbols) on his head, virtually obscuring his face. As he turns...
WIDEN to reveal a dozen OTHERS, also enshrouded — the source of the ever-present droning. As the CAMERA MOVES AMONG THEM, weaving in and out, we find they’re kneeling before
AN ELABORATE SHRINE, constructed atop a riser. PANNING THROUGH IT, we see animal bones, talismans, small effigies, along with empty pint bottles, crack vials, porn mags, etc. We may or may not notice the wall behind the shrine bares a symbol: a CIRCLE WITHIN AN OVAL and what looks like a LIGHTENING BOLT bisecting the circle.
A FIGURE, also enshrouded in a slightly more grand ceremonial cloth, stands on the riser, facing the others, his head bowed. CUT IN to find him in the midst of administering a kind of unholy communion — instead of a wafer and a sip of wine, he offers a pill and a swig from a bottle of bourbon.
As one of the faithful accepts the pill on his tongue and washes it down, the Figure lifts his chin and we can make out his face...
Corrupt: Act 2
INT. ANGEL’S APT. - DAY
Angel finishes changing into darker clothes. Cordelia and Doyle are there.
Hold on, why am I looking after this
Chrystal chippy? That’s your job.
Just for a little while. Two people died
horribly in that hotel room and that girl’s
pimp is covering it up.
Two people? But you said the room
was clean. How do you—
I could smell the blood.
Cordelia and Doyle share a look.
There was a lot of it. Too much
for one body.
Well, that’s a nifty talent you got there.
Yeah. Think I’ll be throwing up now.
Angel and Doyle head for the back door.
Hey, what about me?
The guys stop and look at her.
What’s my assignment?
(off her nod)
Well... You could... man the phone.
You mean sit around and wait for it to
not ring? Thanks, but no thanks. I can
get that at home.
(crossing to him)
I think you’re forgetting I have skills
that could be very valuable in this
kind of work.
Rrright. Such as...?
I’m an actress.
She smiles, somewhat patronizingly. Angel and Doyle exchange a look.
EXT. BOTTOM BAR - NIGHT
From the shadows around the corner of the building, we see Billy, his arm around Janie’s shoulders. She seems a little dazed and out of it.
I’m just saying I felt real bad about
snapping at you before. So you got a
little confused, no excuse for me to
talk to you like that.
It’s okay, Billy. I-it seemed so real.
NEW ANGLE - ANGEL, standing in the shadows, revealing we’ve been watching through his P.O.V.
The important thing is, you like it.
Oh. Yeah, Billy...
Angel looks closer as
JANIE’S HAND goes up to jewelry.
ANGEL’S P.O.V. - THE NECKLACE. The same one worn by the doomed hooker in the teaser.
It’s so really beautiful. I love it, like,
You’ll always be my number one girl,
Janie. You know that, don’t you?
I know, Billy.
He takes out a wad of cash and peels off a bill.
Get yourself a quick drink. Then head
on over to the Mercer. You got a
customer heading up in a few.
(tapping his nose)
If you feel like it, hit the powder room
one more time. Help clear your head.
She nods weakly, then turns and heads into the bar. Billy watches her go, his warm expression evaporating and his eyes narrowing.
NEW ANGLE - OVER ANGEL’S SHOULDER. Billy takes off, crossing the street and Angel moves out of frame.
INT. BOTTOM BAR - MEANWHILE
Doyle is at the bar, having an ale. He glances over at a nearby booth.
DOYLE’S P.O.V. - Chrystal and Miggie are seated there, drinking with a couple of his pimp pals. Janie, drink in hand, comes over to join them as Miggie and the other men get up to leave.
NEW ANGLE - Janie shows off her necklace to Chrystal.
Nice, huh. Billy said it was real expensive.
Yeah, nice. How are you doing?
My mind was playing tricks on me,
That what Billy said?
(off her shrug)
Haven’t seen Amber around. You?
Janie, if you want to bunk with me
for a couple of days...
Really? Chrys, that would be
awesome. But, Billy—
I’ll talk to Billy.
Janie hugs her.
You’re the bomb.
(getting up to leave)
Gotta go. Appointment.
You be careful, sweetie.
ON DOYLE - spying on them from the bar.
DOYLE’S P.O.V. - Janie and Chrystal exchange a kiss. Janie leaves, Chrystal watches her go.
NEW ANGLE - Perhaps sensing his gaze, Chrystal looks over at Doyle. He attempts to casually avert his eyes, as if he’s just looking around.
Chrystal gets up and heads toward the restroom, and Doyle relaxes.
EXT. STREET - MEANWHILE
Two STREETWALKERS are standing near a corner, engaged in conversation. One notices something offscreen and gestures for the other to look.
ANGLE ON - A lovely pair of legs strolling down the sidewalk. In fact, it’s much the SAME SHOT as in the teaser. Only this time the lovely ankles occasionally BUCKLE, strapped into high HIGH platform pumps.
TRAVEL UP the gams to reveal, yes, it’s Cordelia, dressed and made-up like some Hollywood B-movie version of a hooker: feather jacket, leather micro-mini, a lot of rouge and a big blonde wig.
She comes upon the two streetwalkers.
So, how’s tricks, fellow hookers?
Who or what the hell are you?
I’m Cookie. You’ve probably never seen
me before since I usually work in a
different part of town.
Way, way over there.
Bitch, if you’re living the life, I’m
Well, hello, Julia. Cause you’re
looking at the real deal here, sister.
A car pulls up next to them, and a MIDDLE-AGED GUY in glasses sticks his head out.
Hi, there. I’m looking for a date.
Ye-ah. Like I’d date a fogy who
drives a Dodge Dart. Get real.
The flustered guy drives away as Cordelia turns back to her "co-workers."
So... Hear any good gossip lately?
EXT. ABANDONED STOREFRONT - MEANWHILE
Billy approaches a closed-up corner drugstore — its DOUBLE GLASS DOORS and windows blacked out with taped-up newspaper.
ON ANGEL - keeping his distance, across the street, in the shadows, watching.
Billy checks the coast then takes out a set of keys, unlocks the door and slips inside, closing the door behind him.
A half beat later, ANGEL stealthily crosses to the store. He studies the doors for a moment, gives them a gentle tug, to confirm they’re locked again. He attempts to peer into the store through the crack between the two doors, to no avail.
He considers his next move, then suddenly hesitates. Slowly looking up, he sees in the darkest corner of the doorway:
A TINY RED LIGHT. A SURVEILLANCE CAMERA.
Angel reacts as BOTH DOORS BURST OPEN and he’s grabbed by two powerfully built GOONS, who yank him inside.
INT. BOTTOM BAR - MEANWHILE
CHRYSTAL, wearing Janie’s scarf, exits the restroom, sniffing and wiping her nose, then starts off for the exit. As she passes the bar, she calls out to the bartender.
I’m gone, Danny. Take messages.
She walks past
DOYLE - who downs the last of his mug residue, and swivels around to follow her. As he gets off the stool, a thick-fingered hand grabs his arm. Doyle turns to find a huge, heavy-set guy.
Forgetting something, Doyle?
Rollo! My favorite bookie. Hey, I
was hoping you’d be he— Oww!
Rollo grabs him by the ear, twisting it, drags him toward the back, where it’s a little more private. He throws Doyle up against the wall.
Easy. I got your money.
He watches helplessly, over Rollo’s shoulder, as
DOYLE’S P.O.V. - Chrystal exits the bar.
Just... not on me at the moment. Why
don’t I go run home and get—
Rollo produces an ominous-looking pair of WIRE-CLIPPERS.
You know, you’re really making it
difficult for me to want to do
business with you again.
INT. ABANDONED STOREFRONT - MEANWHILE
This outer area is big and open. Tables and chairs, pool table, sofa, tv, fridge (on which sits a security monitor), the walls covered with dirty pix... It’s a boy’s clubhouse.
Six PIMPS, surround Angel, wielding BASEBALL BATS.
So... Curious John. What are you
doing following me? Who are you?
Angel looks around at his opposition, taking stock of his situation, considering his reply. He turns back to Billy.
The Dark Avenger.
The bat-wielding pimps look blankly at him, then at each other, not really sure how to respond.
Thought I’d give it a shot.
POW! He elbows one of the pimps behind him (PIMP #1) in the face as another (PIMP #2) swings his bat at Angel. Angel ducks, and the bat takes out the already elbowed PIMP #1.
Before he can fend it off, PIMP #3 SLAMS Angel in the gut and he doubles over. PIMP #2 hits him in the back, sending Angel to the floor as the others rain blows down upon him. As Billy brings down his bat, Angel’s hand SHOOTS out and grabs it. Billy tries and fails to pull it out of his grip.
Then Angel lifts his head. He’s bruised, bloodied and IN FULL VAMP FACE!
The pimps stare at each other, dumbfounded for a beat. Then CHARGE him. Big mistake.
Angel kicks serious ass with some impressive BAT-FU action. Much carnage delivered to the bad guys.
While dispatching a couple of them,
BILLY - comes up behind Angel, wielding an ax. He raises it to strike, when Angel grabs him by the throat.
We need to have a little talk, Billy.
He squeezes until Billy drops the ax.
What— what do you want?
Angel throws him through a pair of closed double doors into an inner room.
(stepping into the room)
He stops when he suddenly notices the SHRINE before him. He scans the paraphernalia for a moment. Then, he goes wide-eyed with recognition when he notices...
THE SYMBOL on the wall above the shrine — the cracked circle within the oval.
MATCH CUT TO:
INT. OTHER MERCER HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
JANIE’S NECKLACE - black stone with silver "crack" in an oval ruby setting - dangling from Janie’s neck.
WIDEN to find JANIE staring woozily at her reflection in a mirror.
A JOHN sits on the edge of the bed, behind her, removing his shoes and socks, and unbuttoning his shirt.
Hey, what’s your name again?
Janie, right? I want to get something
Janie notices the jewel of the necklace starting to GLOW - rapidly increasing in intensity. She stares, her mouth agape.
I like it rough. Really rough, you
understand. I want you to dig your
nails into my back. Maybe a little
biting. I like that. ’Kay?
She doesn’t respond.
Hey, if you’re gonna be squeamish abou—
He stands and touches her shoulder to turn her around. SHOCK causes the words to catch in his throat.
Her once pretty face is now that of a HOMICIDAL BEAST. Her huge gaping maw sports ROWS of SHARP, NEEDLE-LIKE TEETH and her eyes BLAZE RED around BLACK PUPILS. She brings up the RAZOR CLAWS that used to be her hands and lunges at him.
He SCREAMS as the beast TEARS INTO HIM, sinking her teeth into his face. His thrashing body falls back on the bed, as the thing feeds on it (tastefully below camera range).
Then, shockingly, the Janie-beast REARS UP into view and lets out an anguished SHRIEK. Her razor-claws dug into the top of her own head, the creature — with one ghastly motion and accompanied by a horrific TEARING sound — RIPS OFF HER FACE.
It SCREAMS, which carries over as...
EXT. STREET - NIGHT
Angel (no longer in vamp-face) sprints — full out — dodging traffic, people, leaping over parked cars.
INT. OTHER HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Angel bursts through the door and freezes. We don’t see the carnage before him (with the exception of some blood splattered across the walls and, possibly, a single severed limb), but his face conveys the totality of it.
Then, sensing something behind him in the doorway, he whips around to find
CHRYSTAL - staring into the room, her eyes agape with horror and revulsion.
Angel goes to her, to comfort her and block her view.
Don’t. Don’t look.
She shoves him back, and he sees she’s looking at his bruises and bleeding mouth.
Things aren’t what they look like.
With that, she brings up a BIG ASS REVOLVER, COCKS it, and points it in Angel’s face. Before he can respond, he watches her hold up something in her other hand. It’s a BADGE.
A lot of that going around.
Corrupt: Act 3
INT. INTERROGATION ROOM - NIGHT
Angel sits stoically at the end of a long table. A DETECTIVE in a suit — his jacket off, shirt sleeves rolled up — reclines in a chair by the room’s only door. Chrystal enters, glances at the detective.
Give me five minutes.
The detective eyes Angel for a moment, then shrugs.
He grabs his jacket and exits, closing the door behind him.
Kate. That your name?
I want to know who you are.
I told you who I am.
Yeah. Angel. No last name. No i.d.
Maybe I should just run your prints.
Settle it once and for all.
Assuming my prints are on file
Kate leans across the table.
What the hell were you doing there
at the hotel?
You know I had nothing to do with it.
All I know is you’re hiding something.
Angel hesitates, then...
About Janie. You were close to
her, weren’t you?
Kate reacts, a wave of emotion rolling over her.
Let’s stay on subject...
I thought her murder was the subject.
She was just another poor dumb
kid, all alone, who never had a chance.
She wasn’t alone. She had you.
For all the good that did her.
How could you have helped her?
You can’t even help yourself.
What is that supposed to mean?
I think you know.
How long have you been undercover?
Two years November.
Long time to be living someone else’s
life, isn’t it?
(she doesn’t answer)
I’m sure when you started you were
immune to the temptations. At first.
Then maybe to protect your cover,
you indulged once, twice. No
problem. Cross one line, you draw
another. Cross that one, draw another.
Cross that, draw another... Til it’s
not even you doing it anymore.
It’s her. Then it becomes easy.
You can do anything. You can’t get
close to this world and not have it
rub off on you.
(shooting to her feet)
Who are you to judge me? Where
were you three months ago when
the disappearances started and I
couldn’t get anyone to listen. I mean,
let’s face it, nobody gives a damn
about a few missing junkie prostitutes,
Before he can respond, she crosses to the door and opens it.
Go on. Get out of here.
Angel doesn’t move.
You’re free to go.
Kate, there are external forces at
work here. You don’t know what
Reluctantly, Angel leaves. She closes the door behind him. She pinches her eyes shut, staving off some inner pain. Then, just as quickly, and with a deep breath, she shakes it off. Composed, she opens the door and exits.
INT. ANGEL’S OFFICE - LATE
Doyle sits, concerned, when Angel enters. He jumps up.
I lost her. Chrystal. But it wasn’t
my fault. She took off and I was
gonna follow her, but something
came up... And all I’ll say is it’s a
lucky thing I had a few bills on me
or I might be shy a digit or two...
Ignoring him, Angel moves to the desk, grabs a legal pad and a pen and begins to draw something.
You know, when you think about
it, this is really your fault. I mean,
what were you thinking putting me
in charge of her? I’m not cut out—
Angel grabs Doyle’s sleeve and yanks him over.
Ever see this before?
He tears a page from the legal pad and hands it to him, then moves into his inner office. Doyle looks at the paper.
INSERT - A drawing of the symbol on the wall above the shrine.
Not ringing any bells.
Angel re-enters carrying a large, ancient, dusty tome. He hands off the heavy book to Doyle.
Get yourself some new bells.
I want to know what that symbol means.
Cordelia enters, still all hookered out.
Uch, my ankles are killing me!
You been out all night?
What are you, my father? I was
developing my street cred.
Learn anything helpful?
Never wear these shoes again. And
something about ten missing prostitutes.
Angel and Doyle share a look, surprised and impressed.
Well, all right, undercover girl!
Give or take. According to my new
gutter buddies, it’s been going on for
a few months, but everybody’s afraid
to talk about it.
These girls — do you know if they
had anything in common? Hair color?
Eyes? Same pimp?
(shaking her head)
Nothing anyone mentioned. Except...
They were all pretty messed up -
druggies, alkies — real both-end
INT. POLICE PRECINCT SQUAD ROOM - MEANWHILE
CLOSE ON - an open file folder. Clipped to the lefthand side of the folder is a set of MUGSHOTS — JANIE, as we’ve seen her, holding a booking number.
Pretty much at the end of their wicks.
A WOMAN’S HAND reaches in, and pulls out another PHOTO clipped underneath the mugshots, almost obscured by it. It’s a YEARBOOK PHOTO of another Janie, fresh-faced and smiling.
CUT OUT to find Kate, sitting at her desk, staring intently at the photograph, her eyes red and moist. Five other desks are lined up in the room, only a couple occupied.
You look like hell.
She glances up to see
Detective Lieutenant GABE MENLO, 40’s, paunchy, holding a manilla envelope. He pulls over a chair and sits.
What’s going on with you, Kate?
Rumor has it you’ve been living in
the jungle so long, you’ve gone
native. That true?
Just trying to do my job.
Seems more like the job’s doing you.
You stopped filing reports, you don’t
check in regularly like you’re supposed
to. I hear you even interrogated a
suspect without another badge present.
Not a suspect. A material witness.
Same difference. Any way you look at it,
that’s some pretty sloppy work.
Something else you want, Gabe?
Are you just here to bust my chops?
He tosses the envelope onto her desk. She opens it.
Preliminary Forensics Report. They
found something weird in the blood
they got from the dead whore.
Janie! Her name was Janie!
Menlo is taken aback by her outburst.
Kate considers an apology, but opts instead to peruse the report.
What do you mean "weird?"
He continues to stare at her until she looks up at him.
Abnormally high red blood cell count.
Not any drug I ever heard of.
Whatever it was, kinda makes
PCP look downright homeopathic.
What are you talking about?
You saw the bodies. This five-foot-
nothing girl tore a healthy, grown man
to pieces, then disemboweled herself.
What the hell can make somebody do that?
Kate goes wide-eyed. Menlo suddenly realizes.
You didn’t know.
(under her breath)
Sons-of-bitches. Damn them.
Don’t you get it? It’s self-inflicted.
We can’t touch ’em for murder.
As he continues to talk, PUSH IN on Kate, looking as if her head’s going to explode.
We’re lucky if they get 8-to-10.
God forbid they get kicked early for
The droning builds and carries into...
INT. ABANDONED STORE INNER SANCTUM - MEANWHILE
The shrouded cultists are gathered before the shrine.
Standing near the alter is Miggie. He raises his hands and we see he’s holding a necklace (you know the one).
T’Purok — Pervade, imbue, possess!
ON NECKLACE - as the jewel begins to burn brightly.
T’Purok — T’Purok — T’Purok...
INT. ANGEL’S OFFICE - DAY
CLOSE ON the open ancient book. Resting atop the left hand page is Angel’s drawing of the shrine’s ICON. On the right, in the book, is an artist’s detailed illustration of same with a caption identifying it as the "Sign of T’Purok."
Okay, what is it again? Tupac?
CUT OUT to find Cordelia at the computer, Angel over her shoulder. Doyle standing nearby. The research book next to the terminal, Angel refers to it.
T’Purok. Capital T-apostrophe-
(hunting and pecking)
Not so fast. Capital T.
Apostrophe... apostrophe... Oh,
here it is. What’s after that again?
Here. Lemme have a whack.
Doyle leans over her and types on the keyboard, pretty proficiently, as Angel and Cordelia watch.
How’d you become such a computer whiz?
Three words: downloadable
The computer BEEPS.
"T’Purok - The Corrupter. From the
Ancient Babylonian text. Lower demon
who preys on the morally depraved
making vessels of those who’ve fallen
deep into the well of corruption."
Sounds like a proxy-inhabitor.
A what-y in-what-itor?
A proxy-inhabitor is a demon who
can only experience sensations by
possessing a host, usually through
transmutory stones or crystals.
Like evil-bad necklaces handed out
by willing disciples.
Okay, so this thing possesses anyone
wearing the necklace, turns her into
a crazed homicidal beastie just so
it can get its little demon rocks off?
Not just anyone. It has to be someone
who’s hit rock bottom. Someone who’s
PUSH IN on him as a realization dawns.
...and thinks she’s beyond redemption.
INT. THE BOTTOM BAR - LATE AFTERNOON
The place is closed at this hour. Empty, except for...
MIGGIE - behind the bar, going over receipts, when Kate enters from the stairwell. He glances up and sees her.
Hey, there’s my sugar girl.
Where you been hiding?
You know about Janie.
Oh. Yeah. Man, that’s— a waste, is
what it is. That john must have been
one twisted psycho, huh?
He comes around the bar to join her.
I know Billy is just... beside himself.
I mean, Janie, right? She was
his favorite. Like you’re mine.
He produces a necklace.
What is that?
Just a little something to help
ease the pain.
That was Janie’s.
Yeah, that’s right. Billy thought you
should have it, seeing as how you
and she were so tight. I guess he
figured she would’ve wanted that.
He moves behind her to fasten the jewelry around her neck.
You know, it takes something like
this to make a person take stock.
Think about the ones he cares about.
I know you haven’t been happy lately,
babe, but I’m gonna make it up to
you. I swear. You still my girl?
Getting no response, he turns her around to face him.
Hey, come on now, are you my girl?
BANG! Miggie’s eyes go wide with shock, then look down.
WIDEN to see the SMOKING GUN in Kate’s hand. She looks at him, numbly, expressionless.
Miggie collapses to the floor. With her free hand, Kate YANKS the necklace off her throat and throws it down next to his prone form.
Corrupt: Act 4
INT. THE BOTTOM BAR - DAY
As before, Kate stands over Miggie’s freshly shot body, reloading the chamber of her gun. She slaps the cylinder back in as a GROAN emanates from Miggie. She points her gun at him.
That one didn’t kill you.
Maybe this one will.
She’s about to fire, when, sensing something, she spins around, her gun poised at
ANGEL, standing near the back of the place.
How did you get in here?
The question is, how will you get out?
Kate considers, then sticks her gun in his face.
Any way I have to.
T’Purok... Save me...
Momentarily distracted, Kate senses Angel taking a step toward her. She cocks her pistol, ready to fire, but Angel moves past her and kneels beside Miggie, checking his pulse.
She doesn’t budge.
I need to apply pressure to the
wound. Call for an ambulance!
He’s a murderer. Why are you trying
to save him?
He looks up at her.
To keep you from being one.
She hesitates, then shakes her head and backs away to the front door.
I have to kill them.
You interested in killing them or
yourself? Because you’re not getting
out of there alive.
Joke’s on them. I’m already dead.
Angel exhales in frustration, then looks around and spots the TELEPHONE on the bar.
INT. ABANDONED STORE FRONT - NIGHT
The pimp cultists are hanging in the "clubhouse." Some (like Billy) shooting pool, playing cards. They are startled to their feet by...
A LOUD POUNDING on the front door. After the earlier beating from Angel, they all shut up, antsy. PIMP #2 near the fridge looks at the security monitor.
INSERT MONITOR - Kate stands at the entrance, looking into the camera.
It’s Miggie’s girl Chrystal.
She wearing the necklace?
Nope. She’s clean.
Must be looking for Miggie.
She should know better than to
Where is Mig, anyway?
INT. BOTTOM BAR - MEANWHILE
Angel is still tending to the bleeding Miggie, who croaks out his prayer, in delirium...
Praise, T’Purok... His power is my
power. His strength is my strength...
ON DOYLE as he tentatively enters, not seeing them.
Doyle spots Angel and walks toward him until he sees the badly wounded Miggie, and the accompanying blood.
You brought the car?
Right out front.
Good. Now come here.
That’s okay, I can see fine.
Get over here.
Cringing, he makes his way over. Angel takes his hand, pulls him down top the floor, and presses it against Miggie’s wound.
Paramedics will be here any second.
Keep applying pressure until they arrive.
He moves to leave.
Where are you going?
To stop a massacre.
He takes off. Doyle looks down as he continues to stave off Miggie’s bleeding. He appears ill.
Wish he’d stop giving me so much
INT. ABANDONED STORE FRONT - MEANWHILE
Billy unlocks one of the double doors and opens it a crack.
If you’re looking for your man,
he’s not here, Chrys—
He stops when the barrel of a gun is stuck in his face. Billy steps back as Kate pushes her way in.
LAPD! Hands high where I
can see ’em!
That goes for the rest of you
garbage. Get ’em up!
The pimp-cultists reluctantly comply.
You’re a cop?
Now you’re gettin’ it. Turn around
and face the wall. All of you. Move!
As they do, Billy catches sight of
A GOON - sneaking up behind Kate, wielding a chair.
Wait a minute. This bust is bogus.
Where’s your warrant?
I’m not going to arrest you.
(cocking her pistol)
I’m going to kill you.
The goon raises the chair to strike her. Suddenly aware of his presence, she whirls around, narrowly dodging it. The chair knocks the gun out of her hand, and they rush her.
Surprise! The girl can fight. Mini-tussle. She actually manages to take out a few of them before they overpower her with their greater numbers. The two goons prop her up as Billy walks over. He eyes her with disdain for a moment, then BACKHANDS her across the face.
EXT. STREET - MEANWHILE
Angel, in his car, pedal to metal, running lights and generally tearing up the street.
INT. ABANDONED STORE FRONT - MEANWHILE
Battered and bloody, Kate is thrown against a wall and sinks into the corner. Groggily, she looks up.
KATE’S P.O.V. - Billy and the others slowly converge on her.
So much for the foreplay.
He raises his hand and we see he’s holding her gun.
Think I’ll start with your feet, then
work my way up.
Kate hoarsely tries to say something.
What’s this? Pleading for your life?
I like a woman who begs for it.
Grinning, he moves his ear closer to her. CLOSE on Kate’s mouth as she says:
I... I’m gonna kill you, Billy.
Irritated, Billy stands and cocks the gun.
Just lie back and relax, bitch.
This is gonna hurt.
CLOSE on his hand as he begins to squeeze the trigger. Suddenly, there’s a FLASH of silver and the gun goes flying across the room.
Billy howls in pain as he brings up his hand and we see a THROWING STAR embedded in it. He turns and finds...
BIG BRAWL. Angel dominates. Some of the cultists still smarting from the last beating from Angel run away.
During the melee, Kate spots
THE GUN - on the floor, in the corner and crawls toward it.
Angel’s taken out virtually all the pimps and has Billy pinned up against a wall, when
BLAM! Billy cowers as the wall by his head splinters. Angel spins around to find
KATE - on her feet, getting ready to fire her gun again. Angel gets between the pimps and the gun.
Get out of my way, Angel.
She swings her gun around to point at another cultist. Angel continues to block her aim.
They deserve to die.
Big time. But not now. Not by you.
Why not me?! You don’t know me!
You’re right, I don’t. But this isn’t
you. It’s your demons. The ones
eating you up inside. Filling you
with anger. Telling you it’s hopeless.
It is hopeless!
You’re wrong. It’s a struggle. It’s
painful. But there’s always hope.
Believe me... I know a little
something about losing yourself
to the demons inside you.
She looks at him, wanting to believe. Then eyes the pimps cowering behind Angel’s protection..
And what about them? They have
to pay for Janie and the others.
They will. But not tonight. There
won’t be any more killings.
Angel throws a glance toward the pimps.
Billy and the remaining pimps slink away. Angel gently takes Kate’s gun from her and she collapses into his shoulder. As they walk to the wide open exit:
How can you be sure the killings
I don’t trust anyone.
Maybe I can help you with that.
They exit out into the night.
INT. STOREFRONT INNER SANCTUM - NIGHT
Later. The place is empty. Quiet.
ANGEL enters. He seems to be carrying something under his coat, though we don’t see what it is, as he purposefully crosses to the shrine. He looks at it for a moment then, with a sweep of his arm, tosses it aside, sending the various paraphernalia flying.
We notice for the first time, below the ICON...
AN OLD WOODEN DOOR, termite-ridden and boarded up. Angel raises his foot and KICKS it in.
INT. HIDDEN STORAGE ROOM - CONTINUOUS
REVERSE ANGLE - from inside a small storage room, as the door virtually disintegrates and the rotted wood hits the filthy, musty floor and light from the outside spills in.
Angel steps inside, and looks around. Empty crates, old dusty bottles, etc. Then he hears a sniveling, wheezy, LAUGH coming from... above? He looks up.
ANGEL’S P.O.V. - Above and before him is a large, misshapen DEMON — with a face and stubby claws — growing out of the corner of the ceiling, like a mold. It is T’PUROK.
That’s me all over. First to arrive
and last to leave the party. Oh, and
what a delicious one this was. Mmmm.
Nothing sweeter than corruption of
the flesh, don’t you agree, vampire?
Angel just glares at him and he reaches into his coat.
Ah, well... All good things must
come to an end.
Bad things, too.
He produces a large medieval BATTLE-AX.
You think you can make a difference?
As long as there are souls — weak,
wounded, begging to be perverted -
I’m everywhere and eternal. I’ll be
around when the last of humanity
eats itself alive — Oh, it’s going to be
Angel raises the ax over his head.
(continuing; rising in pitch)
Kill me?! Kill a hundred of me!
You are one, where I am a THOUSAND!
Angel swings the ax. It lands (off-camera) with the appetizing CHUNK sound of something’s head being cleaved in two. He eyes the demon’s corpse for a moment...
Nine hundred and ninety-nine to go.
Then turns, throws the ax over his shoulder, and walks away.
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