FEAR OF CLOWNS by Kevin Kangas © 2002 Kevin Kangas INT. BEDROOM - DAY LYNN, asleep, squirms on the bed. She's early thirties, very pretty, thin-bodied. She MUMBLES in discomfort. IN HER DREAM is A YOUNG GIRL in the back seat of a station wagon. She plays with a Barbie, shows it toward CAMERA at the people O.S. Someone SHOUTS, high-pitched but distorted in a dream-like fashion. WOMAN Henry, watch out--! The young girl's eyes move up from her Barbie toward the front of the car--slow, too slow. EVERYTHING SPEEDS UP, the frame shaking like an epileptic suddenly got hold of the camera. Only a half-second has passed, but the young girl is now lying sideways on the back seat and her forehead is smeared with blood. She sits up slowly, dazed. Whatever she sees in the front seat disturbs her. Her lip begins to shake, tears welling in her eyes. Something pops into her peripheral vision. She turns. A CLOWN has appeared in the window next to her. He SHOUTS something unintelligible to her, and then RIPS HIS CLOWN FACE OFF to reveal a bloody skull-- The little girl SCREAMS-- --and Lynn bolts upright on her bed, screaming. She stops immediately as she realizes where she is, but it takes her a moment to calm down. She turns to the clock--it's 5:38. LYNN Shit. She jumps up and heads for the shower. INT. RESTAURANT - EVENING Small neighborhood diner. Wooden chairs and small tables. Lynn rushes in and spots JULIE sitting alone. She rushes over to join her friend. LYNN I am so sorry-- JULIE (friendly ribbing) Sure, whatever it is is so important that you don't want to tell me on the phone, but it's not so important you can't be-- (checks watch) --a half hour late. LYNN I fell asleep-- JULIE (pointing at an empty plate) Look! I finished all the chicken fingers. I'm going to have to go to the bathroom and make myself throw up. Lynn smirks at her friend and sits down. LYNN I need a drink. She motions for the waitress and orders a glass of red wine. JULIE So spill. LYNN (swallows, takes a breath) I'm getting a divorce, Julie. JULIE Shut up. She sees that Lynn's not kidding and her smiles lowers like a draw-bridge. JULIE What? Since when? LYNN Things have been bad for...about a year now. I guess things have never been that great. JULIE Well...I just...why didn't you tell me? LYNN You know...you're-- JULIE Don't even. I'm your friend first. Manager second. LYNN I thought we could work it out. Bert kept making promises and I kept waiting for him to keep them. Guess what I just found out. (doesn't give her a chance) His ex-wife's name is still on the deed to the house. The house I'm living in. He said as soon as I sold my house and moved in, he'd have it taken off. And you know how I found out her name's still on it? Julie shakes her head. LYNN The internet. I had to find out on the goddamn internet. She realizes her voice has started to rise in volume, so she takes a sip of her recently-delivered wine, and calms herself. LYNN I don't know if that was the final straw. It was everything. Julie, I don't know anything about him. I don't know how much money he makes because he didn't want us to have a joint checking account. He always says he's working late at night but he won't give me a number to call other than his cel phone. And that place...it gives me the creeps. JULIE It's a sanitarium. They do that. LYNN (shrugs, moot point) I told him I was leaving and that I was taking Nicky. He hit me. Julie is shocked. JULIE He...hit you? LYNN (nods) I was packing some things. I said I was taking Nicky and I'd be filing for a divorce. He hit me in the back of the head. JULIE Did you call the police? LYNN No. I just wanted to get out of there. That was a month ago. JULIE You separated a month ago and didn't tell me? LYNN I didn't want to bother you, what with all the stuff you've already got on your plate... She stops as she sees the look on Julie's face; How Ridiculous. JULIE So what are you going to do? LYNN Get the divorce. Once I get full custody of Nicky, I'll start trying to reassemble what's left of my life. In California. JULIE You're going to move? LYNN I told Phillip yesterday. I didn't tell him why. JULIE How'd he take it? LYNN He was shocked, you know, at first. But he was very supportive as always. Julie pulls out her cel phone and starts dialing. JULIE Okay, the first thing I'm going to do is cancel the exhibit tomorrow night-- LYNN Nononononono, please Julie. Julie reluctantly hangs up. LYNN You've worked so hard, and to tell you the truth, it'll be good to meet some new people. Take my mind off. JULIE Lynn. We'll just postpone it. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be doing an exhibit when you've got this much on your mind. LYNN It'll be good. No, great. JULIE You sure? Really sure? LYNN Really. JULIE Where are you staying? LYNN A friend of mine is out of the country for a couple months. She said I could stay at her house until I find someplace of my own. JULIE What about Nicholas? LYNN Every other day. The lawyers had a temporary agreement drawn up. JULIE In this state, you'll have no trouble getting sole custody. LYNN (nods) I'm not worried about that. It's just...this can't be my life, Julie. I can't be a divorced mother. I just, I can't. JULIE People change, Lynn. LYNN (wistful) I don't think I ever really knew him in the first place... INT. BEDROOM - NIGHT The moon casts a faint light through the window. Lynn is asleep in her bed, this time without the nightmares. OUR VIEW looks down upon her, and for a moment there's the impression that someone is in the bedroom standing over her. But then we MOVE slowly across the bed toward the window, passing the nightlight plugged into the wall panel, right up to the window and THROUGH IT into the dark night. We get a nice bird's eye view of the street. Pools of black shadow lie everywhere. The houses along the street are all dark grey shapes set against a starless sky. Each house appears very middle-class suburban. All is quiet. Still. Across the street from Lynn's, SOMETHING MOVES FROM UNDER THE SHADOW OF A TREE. Still hidden in the darkness under the leaves, it's impossible to tell what it is. Then THE CLOWN moves into the light and we can see he's got some sort of bag in his hand. The streetlight above catches him in total silhouette, so it's impossible to tell much about him. And yet, there's something definitely sinister about him. Is it the peculiar sight of a clown standing in a deserted street in the dead of night? Or something else...? The clown scans the houses across the street and his gaze stops at the house two doors up from Lynn. He turns to look directly at Lynn's house, and makes a shrugging motion, very much like, "What can I do? My hands are tied." He moves across the street, taking a new grip on whatever's in the bag, and the bag falls into the street. He holds a giant axe. Even in the dim light, the silver axe- blade gleams like mercury. Silently, the house awaits his entrance. Taking his time, he moves toward the door. EXT. HOUSE - DAY Lynn rushes out of her house, clearly late for something. She stops in confusion as she sees five cop cars and an ambulance in front of the house two doors down. A good bunch of the neighbors--moms and kids--stand about in groups, pointing and asking questions. Lynn goes over to a neighbor, GALE, a chubby motherly type who's shaking her head without realizing it. LYNN Excuse me...I'm house-sitting for Margaret. Could you tell me what's going on? GALE (tsks) Oh it's just awful. If we're not safe here, where on earth can we possibly move to? She tsks again, but otherwise isn't forthcoming. LYNN Do you know what happened? GALE The Olsons. All of them. Killed while they slept. LYNN Killed? GALE Butchered, from what I hear. (off Lynn's look) I know. How could something like that happen here? While we slept? This is a nice neighborhood. LYNN My god... She breaks it off and shakes her head. DETECTIVE PETERS, a young guy who looks more like a rock star incognito, wanders over with a pad of paper. DETECTIVE PETERS Morning folks. You all know the Olsons? GALE Of course. Who are you? DETECTIVE PETERS Sorry. (flashes the badge) Detective Peters. Homicide, of course. Either of you happen to hear or see anything unusual last night? GALE Why yes. (Peters is interested) There was a carfull of raving psychopaths parked in front of the house about midnight, but I figured if we left them alone, they'd go away. Detective Peters is put off by the sarcasm coming from someone who appears so motherly. He looks to Lynn, who smiles uncomfortably. DETECTIVE PETERS Maam. I need to know if you saw anything out of the ordinary last night, or heard anything. GALE Don't you think I'd have called the police in that case? DETECTIVE PETERS Maybe. Maybe not. It might not have struck you as strange at the time, but maybe now, with what's happened... LYNN What exactly happened? DETECTIVE PETERS (not particularly sympathetic) Your neighbors have been murdered. I can't tell you any more than that right now. He hands them both a card. DETECTIVE PETERS If something comes to you, give me a ring huh? GALE That's all? That's all the questions you're going to ask? DETECTIVE PETERS Oh hey. Sorry. Did either of you happen to kill the Olsons? Gale is not amused. Lynn's watching them carry a bodybag on a stretcher out of the Olsons' house. Something about the sight has trapped her gaze. DETECTIVE PETERS (didn't really need an answer anyway) Okay. Thanks. One of my guys will be over to take your names. LYNN Detective? I'm sorry, I'm already late. (she digs in her purse and pulls out a card) This has my name and cel phone number on it. I'm...house sitting here for the next couple of weeks. DETECTIVE PETERS (looking at the card) An artist, huh? You don't much look like an artist. GALE Says the rock-star detective. Peters spares her a glance, but ignores her. The way Lynn stumbled over the half-lie seems to have caught the detective's attention. DETECTIVE PETERS How long you been...house sitting? LYNN About four, no, five nights. DETECTIVE PETERS (nods his head) I may have to come by later and ask you a few questions, Miss... (checks the card again) Blodgett. LYNN Sure, I understand. (beat) Oh, no! I'm sorry, I've got an exhibit tonight, so I won't be back at all today. Tomorrow should be fine though. GALE Why don't you leave her alone? Do you think she did it? Is that what your keen detective mind is telling you? The detective turns a bemused smile on Gale. DETECTIVE PETERS Wow. You're Miss Cleaver on the outside, but the inside's a real bitch, ain't it? GALE Ex-cuse me? DETECTIVE PETERS I guess I'm not so good with the sarcastic reh-par-tee. He stumbles over the word like it's too hard to wrap his tongue around, but there's a quiet intelligence in his eyes. An intelligence that just filed Gale under "B" for bitch. He wanders off shaking his head. GALE His superior's going to hear about this. LYNN (rushing off) Well, it was nice meeting you, I'm really really late now. GALE (calls after her) I'm Gale. Gale Wroten. Lynn waves back without looking and hightails it to the car. INT. GALLERY - DAY The gallery looks new. Shiny hardwood floors. Small rooms showcase paintings on the wall, with new wave furniture awaiting the pretentious ass of some wannabe art critic. Lynn rushes in. AMANDA, 23, steps out with a clipboard. She's cute in a mousy, Lisa Loeb kind of way. AMANDA Lynn, hey. LYNN Sorry I'm late. You'll never believe the morning I'm having. AMANDA No worries. Everything's going pretty hokay. OOPS still hasn't delivered two of the pieces, but everything else is here. LYNN Phil around? AMANDA Yup. As if he heard, PHILLIP REID rounds the corner. He's kind- faced, late thirties, dressed in an old-fashioned brown suit-and-vest. He's got the makings of a slight gut. PHILLIP Lynn, some of these new pieces are amazing! You've been doing great work lately. Fabulous stuff. LYNN Thanks, Phil. And thank you so much for this. PHILLIP It's my pleasure. (takes on an aristocratic air) You know how prestigious it is to once again be showcasing the great Lynn Blodgett at my gallery. LYNN Oh, please. PHILLIP If Picasso were still alive, I'd turn him down to get you. AMANDA Ass kisser. LYNN Well, thanks. It means a lot to me. PHILLIP What do you think? Should we expect a crowd tonight? AMANDA I think you'll be pleasantly surprised... On Lynn's questioning look... INT. GALLERY - NIGHT Same place, plus a hundred people. No one speaks loud. It's all QUIET MURMURS over wine or mixed drinks. Lynn's standing against a back wall with Amanda. She looks dazed. LYNN (quiet) How...on earth...did you get all these people here? AMANDA WWW dot I hate clowns dot com. I posted it on their message board. LYNN But...if they hate clowns, why would they come? AMANDA It's a love-hate thing. Lynn shakes her head; she doesn't understand, but who's complaining? She touches Amanda's arm to signal that she's moving. She begins to weave aimlessly among the people, pausing just long enough to catch whether they like her stuff or not. Most seem to. INTO ANOTHER ROOM not as crowded as the main room. A COUPLE murmurs about the painting in front of them, while across the room is TUCK, 28. He's dark-skinned Latino, dressed like a model. He's staring deeply at one of Lynn's clown paintings. She sidles up, trying to be sly. LYNN So what do you think? TUCK (spares her a quick look, then back to the painting) I'm not an art critic or anything... LYNN Who is? TUCK (nods, then back to the painting) It's okay. I don't know what the clown fetish is all about--I think the artist has issues. Lynn smiles. Not what she expected to hear. LYNN (good-natured) Oh? TUCK Well...they're clowns, for chrissakes. But hers are all so...scary. Did you see the one where you walk in? I think I remember that one from Stephen King's It. Lynn smiles. She's looking forward to embarrassing him when she introduces herself. LYNN But you're no art critic. TUCK No. Tucker Flynn. My friends call me Tuck. He extends his hand. LYNN Lynn-- TUCK --Blodgett, I know. (mischievous smile) I saw your picture in the program. She smiles and reappraises him. TUCK I didn't want to blow your cover. Not right away anyway. LYNN So what do you really think? TUCK They're good. I mean...they're great. (the smile returns) You've still got issues, but...I think they're phenomenal. She can tell he's sincere about his appreciation. She's touched. LYNN Thanks. You from the web site? TUCK Web site? LYNN Oh, nothing. What made you stop by tonight? TUCK This is the best gallery in Baltimore. I've bought a couple of pieces here. LYNN Anything of mine? TUCK No. Honestly, I never noticed your stuff before, but I'll definitely be keeping my eye out now. There are serious looks going on between them, a quick chemistry that seems to be catching Lynn off guard. LYNN Well...I hope you have a good time. She starts to move off. TUCK Hey. You wanna-- (shrugs) --maybe go out and get a drink later? LYNN Uh--- Is she searching for an excuse or thinking about accepting? She's married, she can't be going out on dates. LYNN It's just a bad time. He smiles his understanding. TUCK Sure. No problem. She turns to move off. TUCK How 'bout tomorrow? She stops. LYNN It's complicated. TUCK Oh. LYNN I'm married. TUCK (sudden understanding) Ooooh... LYNN I mean, I'm separated. TUCK (no problem then) Oh. Great. I mean, not great like I'm happy about it--- (realizes he's screwing up) Hi. I'm Tuck. I'll be right back. He heads over to the nearest tuxedo's waiter and grabs a champagne glass. He holds it up to toast Lynn, then DOWNS it in one swallows. Then he grabs two others off the tray and returns to Lynn. TUCK I thought if it didn't cost too much, I could get a guided tour of your work. Lynn smiles at his persistance. There's something immaturely endearing about him. His smile is contagious. She takes the drink. LYNN I could probably put it on your tab. Tuck's glad she's going along for the ride. He steps up to the painting in front of them. TUCK Take this one. I notice that this clown seems to be in a lot of your paintings. What's the significance? The more astute viewers will recognize the clown as the one from the dream in the beginning. In the painting, he's staring out at us with a look of sinister intent. He's in a stark white hallway with strange objects on the wall. She stares at it intently, as if she's never seen it before, as if she's falling into it. An excited Amanda pops up behind her, saving her from answering. AMANDA Boss. The mayor is here. LYNN The mayor? Of the city? AMANDA No, of Sesame Street. (notices Tuck) Who's the hunk? Lynn's still shocked about the mayor thing, but not so much that she can't be embarrassed too. LYNN Sorry. Tuck, this is my number one cheerleader, Amanda. She created my web site and does all my other promotion for me. Tuck smiles at her ga-ga expression. TUCK Nice to meet you. AMANDA Um hmmm. I'd like to shake my bon bons all over your-- LYNN Amanda. Go tell Phillip I'll be right over. AMANDA Okay. She gives Tuck one last lascivious look, and then she's off. LYNN Sorry about that. TUCK It's flattering. LYNN I guess I should go say hi to the mayor. TUCK Is he really here, or is that just a ploy you two use to impress people? LYNN I think he's really here. TUCK Impressive. Can I get your autograph later? LYNN Sure. Hang around. I'll be back. She gives him a fleeting smile and walks away. As soon as her back is turned to him, she makes a face. What the hell is she doing? And then her expression turns to dismayed shock. BERT, her soon-to-be ex-husband, rounds the corner, a wine glass in hand. BERT Lynn! There you are. LYNN (quiet) What the hell are you doing here? BERT What? What's the matter? LYNN Who's watching Nicky? BERT He's in great hands, don't worry. LYNN So why are you here, Bert? BERT I came to see your new exhibit, of course. LYNN Bert. What the hell is wrong with you? We're not friends. (as if he's forgotten) You filed for divorce. BERT Only because you were going to. LYNN We're not doing this here. Please leave. BERT Don't get all apoplectic on me. I didn't realize you'd get so upset. LYNN Why wouldn't I? This is an important night for me. BERT All right. I'll go. LYNN Thanks. He takes a final sip of his drink before putting it down. BERT I'll call you later. He's gone before he can see the look of disgust that crosses Lynn's face. She takes a calming breath before she goes looking for the mayor. INT. GALLERY - LATER The crowd is mostly gone. Lynn's walking through room after room. She's looking for Tuck, but trying not to act like it. Room after room(and blank spaces reveal that the gallery was successful in moving some of her paintings) and no Tuck. She's starting to get discouraged. She comes back around to the front counter and there he is talking with Phil. Lynn suppresses a smile. PHILLIP Here she comes! TUCK Can I get that autograph now? He lifts something from the counter that was hidden behind his body. It's one of Lynn's paintings. LYNN But...that's... PHILLIP Your new admirer just purchased your most expensive piece, my dear. LYNN That's eight thousand dollars... TUCK And worth every penny. When it's worth two-hundred grand, you'll beg to buy it back. (to Phillip) Go ahead and wrap it up. I'll get her to autograph it once it's hanging up in my house. Phillip doesn't get it for a moment. Then he sees the blush on Lynn's cheek. He gets it. PHILLIP Oh. Oh...of course. He begins wrapping as Lynn and Tuck exchange looks. LYNN Do you mind me asking what you do, Tuck? TUCK Wanna see? LYNN (playful flirting) I think that would depend on what it is you do. PHILLIP I'm just, uh, I've got to get some tape from the other room. Clearly uncomfortable with their flirting, he goes into another room. TUCK Seriously. You want to see what I do, my office isn't very far away. LYNN Okay. But only because you just paid my rent for three months. (louder toward the other room) Phillip, I'll be back soon. I'm going to see Mr. Flynn's office. EXT. GALLERY Tuck escorts Lynn outside and opens the passenger door of his Porsche. He shuts the door after she pulls her legs in. ACROSS THE STREET in the shadows of an alley stands a man. He watches as Tuck gets in the Porsche, starts it and drives away. As it exits the scene, the man steps forward to watch its progress. We see it's Bert, a menacing scowl on his face. INT. TUCK'S OFFICE - LATER Tuck lets Lynn into the office. She takes a look around as he goes to the alarm and turns it off. The office is very nice. Clean, well-organized, tastefully decorated. TUCK This is my office. It's big. She walks down the hall, Tuck following behind her, indulging her whim to lead. LYNN So...what do you do? TUCK Look at the pictures. She's been walking by the pictures on the wall, but now she stops to take a better look. The pictures seem to be of elaborate roller coasters at various theme parks. LYNN I still don't get it. TUCK My company designs roller coasters. Disney, King's Dominion, Busch Gardens, you name it. I've got a coaster there. Lynn's impressed. LYNN How old are you? TUCK Old enough to pick touch football over tackle. LYNN Why don't you want to tell me? TUCK How old are you? LYNN (smiles) Touche. She's peering close to one picture. It shows some crazy sumbitch standing on the highest point of a tall roller coaster, no car. TUCK That's me. LYNN No. She looks closer. It's a far off shot, but it sure looks like it could be him. TUCK Every time they finish a new coaster of mine, I like to stand at the highest point. LYNN You're out of your mind. TUCK (shrugs) I'm a thrill seeker, what can I say? The playful smile never leaves his face. She's clearly amazed at the guts it takes to do what he does. Tuck leans in close over her shoulder as she stares at another picture. TUCK Impressed? She's not spooked by how close he is. She doesn't want to let on that she's impressed though. LYNN I don't really like roller coasters. He's non-plussed. He moves past her down the hall toward an exit door. TUCK How do you feel about... He opens the door and flicks on the light. It's a giant game room. A pool table in the center. A twenty foot shuffleboard game to the side. A big screen TV in the corner with a sofa in front of it. A refrigerator, the works. TUCK ...shuffleboard? She follows him into the room. It's getting harder and harder to hide being impressed. TUCK Can I get you a beer? He's at the fridge. Lynn has a moment. Put a halt to it right now, before it all gets out of hand. The reasons are many: In the middle of a divorce, Tuck is younger than she is, she's got a kid. She doesn't even really know this guy. LYNN Sure. TUCK (as he's getting them) So how'd you get set up at the gallery? LYNN Oh, Phillip owns it. TUCK Seems awfully young to own an art gallery, doesn't he? I picture gallery owners as, you know, over fifty. LYNN He inherited it when his parents died. (sheepish) It seems funny now, but I actually met him...on the internet. An art forum. When he found out I was in the same city, and a painter...he offered to take a look at my stuff. TUCK I guess he liked it. LYNN (nods) We've had a bunch of showings, but none went like tonight. For a second she looks like she thinks she shouldn't have said that. She breaks eye contact, but quickly looks back and smiles. TUCK So how about a game of pool? EXT. TUCK'S OFFICE - LATER Tuck locks up the office behind them as they leave. TUCK Not to sound sexist, but for a girl, you're pretty good at pool. LYNN Not to sound sexist? TUCK Yeah, that's why I prefaced it that way. From around a bush steps a MUGGER. He's mean-faced and alert. All business. MUGGER Gimme your money. Tuck moves protectively in front of Lynn. The mugger's not intimidated, more interested in Lynn. MUGGER Gimme the purse and there won't be no trouble. Tuck eyes the mugger for a moment, then holds his hand out to Lynn. She gives him the purse. He tosses it to the mugger, who catches it in his knifeless hand. The mugger reaches in, pulls out the wallet and pockets it. He smiles a little more confidently. MUGGER What else she got? TUCK You got the money. Get out of here. MUGGER I think you best run off, loverboy. I'll see her home. TUCK Take the easy score. It's all downhill from here. The mugger edges in. Tuck pushes Lynn back farther. TUCK (never taking his eyes off the mugger) When you get the chance Lynn, throw a rock at my office window. The mugger rushes. He feints and slashes across Tuck's stomach. Tuck jumps back, but there's a rip across his shirt now. Holding the knife up, the mugger admires the thin red coat now along one side. MUGGER Wanna reconsider, loverboy? Nothing from Tuck. Still riveted on the mugger. The mugger takes two steps and jabs the knife. Tuck steps to the side, grabs the mugger's hand and jams an elbow into his side. The instant Tuck grabs the mugger's arm, LYNN HURLS HER KEYCHAIN, five pounds of keys, at the office door. It doesn't shatter the window, but spider-web cracks appear and a LOUD ALARM BEGINS GOING OFF inside. When Tuck elbows the mugger, he drops the knife. Tuck uses his weight to whirl the mugger away from him, causing him to tumble off balance and fall. A METALLIC CLATTER as a gun falls out of the mugger's waistband. The mugger snatches the gun. TUCK Run! Lynn and Tuck run off toward the end of the building. The mugger briefly points his gun at the fleeing couple, but something keeps him from firing. He's pissed. He spares one irritated glance toward where the alarm is WAILING, and he runs off in the other direction. DISSOLVE TO: INT. CAR - LATER Tuck's car pulls up in front of the house Lynn's staying in. Lynn, exhausted, doesn't move to open the door right away. She stares at the house. TUCK You sure you're all right? I can take you to a friend's house... LYNN I'm okay. You're the one who got stabbed. TUCK Slashed, not stabbed. I've done worse shaving. Lynn nods absently as if she's not even listening. She reaches for the door handle. LYNN Well...good night. TUCK Hey. He grabs her arm gently. TUCK I'll call you tomorrow. She barely nods, gets out of the car and walks to her house. Tuck waits until she's in the house before he pulls away. INT. HOUSE Lynn leans back against the front door and closes her eyes. Exhausted. With the mugging on top of her exhibit, it's just too much. She's ready to drop. She trudges into the kitchen and pours herself a glass of wine. The PHONE RINGS. She spares a look at the clock--pretty late for a call--and picks up the phone. LYNN Hello? Behind her, something outside moves past the kitchen windows. PHILLIP (PHONE) Lynn? LYNN Phillip? What are you doing up this late? A non-rhythmic tapping can be heard coming from somewhere in the other room. Like a branch against a window. PHILLIP (PHONE) You've had me worried sick. I've called ten times since eleven o'clock. LYNN But...why? PHILLIP (PHONE) You leave the exhibit with some strange man you don't even know, and you wonder why I'm worrying? LYNN You're right. I'm sorry. PHILLIP Where have you been all this time? Lynn notices the tapping. She moves into the television room. The tapping seems to be coming from outside the sliding glass door. LYNN Long story. Long long story. She can't see anything outside the window, it's so dark. LYNN You'll never believe what happened. She flicks on the lightswitch next to the door. The clown stands there revealed in the light. Like Lynn's worst nightmare, like the clown in the painting Tuck pointed out, the one that Lynn paints often, the one from her dream. His pupil-less eyes, however, are black as night. The soulless eyes of a shark. He's staring right at Lynn. PHILLIP (PHONE) What? What happened? The clown cocks his head and leans closer, his breath fogging the glass. Lynn faints, the phone dropping uselessly to the rug. With a rumble, the sliding glass door opens to the clown's pull. He steps inside the house. PHILLIP (PHONE) Lynn? Hello? FADE OUT: From the BLACK comes voices. Echoes, distant and distorted. VOICE (coming into focus) Can you hear me? Miss Blodgett, can you open your eyes? LYNN'S POV as she opens her eyes. Someone's leaning over her waving something under her nose. It's a MEDIC. MEDIC You with me now? LYNN Yes... She sits up with his help. MEDIC Do you feel okay? Does anything hurt? LYNN No. I don't think so. MEDIC Did you hit your head when you fell? Lynn sees there's a COP standing behind the medic listening. His presence distracts her for a moment. LYNN Uh...no. I don't think so. MEDIC Do you want to go to the hospital? LYNN No. I'm all right. The medic nods and begins to pack up his things as Lynn moves to a chair. The cop steps forward. COP So what happened? LYNN I-- (the remembrance floods back) --there was someone standing outside my back door. COP Right here? He points to the sliding glass door which is open about two inches. LYNN Yes. COP It was open when we got here. Lynn's eyes widen. It was open? It--the clown--came into the house? COP We'll search the house. I don't think anyone else is here though. LYNN How did you know to come? COP A friend of yours called. Said he was talking to you on the phone and it sounded like you collapsed. Can you describe the guy that was outside your door? LYNN He was dressed like a clown. COP What? A what? There's a TAP on the front screen door. They look to see Detective Peters letting himself in. COP (to Lynn) 'Scuse me a minute. He intercepts Peters before he can make it over. There's HUSHED CONVERSATION between them ending in a questioning glance to the cop, who shrugs. Detective Peters comes over and sits down across from Lynn. LYNN Don't you ever sleep? DETECTIVE PETERS Not so much. You say you saw someone outside? LYNN Yes. Right outside the glass when I turned on the light. DETECTIVE PETERS And was he black or white? LYNN He was a clown. DETECTIVE PETERS A clown? LYNN Yes. DETECTIVE PETERS There was a clown standing outside your window at one a.m.? LYNN (knowing how it sounds) Yes. DETECTIVE PETERS Was he lost? Wandered away from Barnum & Bailey's and got trapped in suburbia? She says nothing, just glares back at him. He purses his lips thoughtfully. DETECTIVE PETERS This a P.R. stunt? LYNN (confused) What? DETECTIVE PETERS I know what you do, Miss Blodgett. (off of her "so what?" look) You paint pictures. Of clowns. This some kind of publicity stunt? LYNN Does it look like a publicity stunt? DETECTIVE PETERS No. But looks can be deceiving. LYNN (getting mad) That's great. How profound. I'd like you to leave. DETECTIVE PETERS No need to be rude. The cop catches his eye. COP The house is all clear. Peters nods. DETECTIVE PETERS I'm just saying, if this is some stunt, it's a serious crime to call the police. LYNN I didn't call the police. DETECTIVE PETERS I know, I know. Your friend did. The guy that owns a gallery full of your clown paintings. He stands up. DETECTIVE PETERS I'll be talking to you soon. I've got some other questions. Lynn doesn't say anything. She follows them to the door. DETECTIVE PETERS 'Night. Lynn shuts the door without a word. She stands there, the thoughts running wild through her exhausted head. DISSOLVE TO: INT. GALLERY - DAY Lynn walks in, holding hands with her son NICHOLAS, aka Nicky. He's about five years old. Phillip, Amanda, and MR. PARRISH turn from one of Lynn's paintings toward her. Mr. Parrish is a distinguished older man, dressed very well and holding a cane, though he doesn't appear to need it. LYNN Hey...what's going on? MR. PARRISH Have you ever been spanked by a clown, Miss Blodgett? Lynn doesn't know whether to laugh or be offended. LYNN Excuse me? Mr. Parrish hands her a photograph. In the photo is a clown mugging for the camera with a bunch of kids at a birthday party. MR. PARRISH My father. He used to be a clown for neighborhood birthday parties. A very strange thing. This man who brings joy and smiles to everyone around him...is also the man who comes home and spanks you...hits you with his hand or his belt. Not happy to do it, mind you, but doing his duty as a father punishing a son. Lynn's listening patiently, but can't see where he's going. MR. PARRISH You paint magnificently. I don't like the ones with the frightening clowns though. I don't know why you waste your time with those. But the ones like this... He points to the one they were all admiring when Lynn came in. The clown in the painting gazes sadly on the wilted flower in his hand. MR. PARRISH Incredible. Perfect. His expression...I want you to capture that for me. LYNN I'm sorry, Mr... MR. PARRISH Parrish. Endle Parrish. LYNN I'm sorry, Mr. Parrish, I don't know what you're talking about. MR. PARRISH I want you to paint a picture of my father. I want you to show me a clown saddened that he has to spank his son. Lynn's expression says it all. How strange. Lynn looks to Phillip or Amanda for support. Neither says anything, but they're smiling. Like something else is coming. LYNN Mr. Parrish, I'm sorry but I don't do commission pieces. I'm not even sure I could-- MR. PARRISH Ten thousand dollars. Cash if you'd like. She's speechless for a moment. Even Phillip and Amanda are shocked. They knew the guy was loaded, but that's more than even they expected. LYNN I don't, I mean, I could sell you that one for a lot less. MR. PARRISH No. It has to look like my father. I want an original painting of my father and I need it in three days. LYNN That's just impossible. I can recommend a number of excellent painters-- MR. PARRISH No. It must be you. LYNN I'm sorry, I can't do it. MR. PARRISH Twenty thousand dollars. That's my final offer. LYNN You don't understand-- PHILLIP Lynn, could we speak to you for a moment? LYNN (to Amanda regarding Nick) Can you keep an eye on him? Amanda nods. Nicky's happy playing with his action figures on a bench. Phillip pulls her into the other room, leaving Mr. Parrish to gaze at her paintings. LYNN I can't, Phillip. I don't have the time right now. PHILLIP Make the time. You can't be too busy for that kind of money. LYNN I am. I'm getting divorced. That's why I'm going to move. Get away, get a new start. He doesn't act surprised. Either that, or he doesn't think it matters. PHILLIP You've got to think this through, Lynn. Can you imagine what this is going to do for your other paintings? For your reputation? Once people hear Mr. Parrish paid twenty thousand for one of your paintings, it will open the flood gates. You won't be consigned to showing your paintings in my gallery...you'll be all over the country. Lynn's starting to see the picture. LYNN I'm not sure I can do it. PHILLIP Of course you can. She's not so sure. She gives him one more unsure look before going back into the other room. MR. PARRISH You'll do it? LYNN I can't promise you I'll get it done. He ignores her. MR. PARRISH (handing her the photo again) Excellent. My phone number is on the back. Call me when you've finished and let me know how you'd like the payment. She takes it. Mr. Parrish hangs the cane on the crook of his arm, and if he had a hat, he'd probably doff it. MR. PARRISH Good day. He swaggers out. AMANDA (in awe) Twenty thousand dollars...that'll buy a lot of bandwidth. Neither Phillip nor Lynn know what she's talking about. AMANDA Tres geek, huh? LYNN Yeah. PHILLIP What happened last night? I called the police but wouldn't tell me anything. LYNN I'm sorry. I don't even know where to start. AMANDA (totally in the dark) What? What happened? LYNN You'll never believe it...get me some coffee and I'll tell you about it. EXT. BASEMENT - DAY The backyard of a run-down house. Concrete stairs lead down the back to a basement door. A noise. Like a MUFFLED SHOUT followed by a dull THWACK. It's coming from inside the house. INT. BASEMENT The basement is dark and bare, undecorated cinderblock walls. The concrete floor is uncarpeted. A thin mattress sits in the corner surrounded by opened soda cans and other trash. The windows are covered so that the only light is from a bulb in the ceiling. A simple wooden table stands in the center of the room, an answering machine sitting on top of it. Next to the table is a wooden stump. The clown, breathing heavily, holds an axe. No warning. He swings the axe into the stump as hard as he can, YELLING like a savage. CLOWN GEEEEEEEEEEEEHHHHHT! He pulls the axe out, mumbling as he exhales from the effort. CLOWN --better. Again he swings the axe, again the YELL. CLOWN GET! Pulls it out. CLOWN Better. Over and over again, reciting the litany, a cruel smile on his face. INT. GALLERY - LATER Lynn and her friends have retired to the more comfortable reception area. Nick has his action figures battling underneath the magazine table. LYNN The police took our statements, but it didn't seem like they thought they'd catch him. AMANDA That's a really nice area. I can't believe someone mugged you. PHILLIP What happened when I called you? Lynn has an internal debate. She decides to spare herself the embarrassment of the clown story. LYNN I don't know. I guess it all just caught up to me. I must have passed out. AMANDA You passed out? What's that like? LYNN It felt a lot like hitting the floor. PHILLIP You need to take it easy, Lynn. And I don't think that includes leaving with strange men at night. LYNN Is that you, dad? AMANDA He's right. You should stay away from that guy. (beat) Give me his phone number and I'll pass him the message. Lynn smirks at her. LYNN Anyway. I have to get going to the mediation. You're sure you're all right with watching Nicky for an hour? AMANDA Not a problem. I don't have class until four. LYNN Great. Thanks a lot. AMANDA Don't thank me. I'm billing you. PHILLIP What exactly is supposed to happen at this mediation? LYNN (shrugs) I'm not sure. I think we have to sit down and decide who gets what, and what his visitation rights are going to be. INT. MEDIATION ROOM - DAY A sterile meeting room with a lacquered table and office chairs. There's a sweating metal pitcher of water at the center of the table. LYNN Are you out of your fucking mind? Lynn and her lawyer MARTY are on one side, Bert and his lawyer OSBOURNE across from them. The MEDIATOR, a man with a wooden face, sits at the head of the table. MEDIATOR Mind the language please. Osbourne's a no-nonsense older man and looks like he's accustomed to taking apart multi-million dollar corporations before breakfast. OSBOURNE That's what we want. Sole custody of Nicholas. Half of the ownership of every painting you've created since you married, or half the price if you've sold them already. You can keep your car. Bert won't ask for any palimony, but you'll have to pay child support. Lynn looks at Marty in disbelief, then back at Bert. LYNN You can kiss my ass. MEDIATOR Miss Blodgett, that's not helpful. OSBOURNE And please direct your comments to me. LYNN Why? Is he too chickenshit to talk to me? (shakes her head) I can't believe I'm hearing this. Marty? Marty seems like more of your public defender type attorney. MARTY That's not going to fly, guys. Lynn gets sole custody. Full alimony and child support. Bert can keep his house-- OSBOURNE The house was his before the marriage. It's not in her name at all. Our terms aren't negotiable, Marty. Your client has no home--very unstable for the child. If she tries to buy one before the divorce goes through, we'll pursue half of it. LYNN (to Bert) Oh my God... Osbourne tries a sympathetic smile and fails. OSBOURNE (to Marty) You don't want to play hardball with me. I'm short stop in the majors, and you couldn't play outfield in the minors. Marty knows he's outclassed. MARTY We just want a fair deal, Osbourne. That's all we're looking for. OSBOURNE We're offering you a fair deal. MARTY He wants her to pay child support? He's a doctor, for godsakes. OSBOURNE He's been unemployed for over six months. LYNN What? What's he been doing? OSBOURNE It's not your business. LYNN It's not my business? He's still my husband, you son of a bitch. Where has he been going everyday? MEDIATOR Please, Miss-- LYNN No! I want an answer. Where the hell has my husband been going every day for the past six months if he wasn't going to work? MEDIATOR Okay, let's call it a day. Lynn slams her hand on the table. LYNN Bullshit! Marty touches her arm and raises his eyebrows to let her know she's getting out of line. She takes a moment to calm down. MEDIATOR Let's meet Monday after everyone's had a chance to cool down. MARTY (before Lynn can speak) Sounds good. He reaches across to shake Osbourne's hand, but Osbourne only nods and begins packing his papers into his briefcase. OSBOURNE I'll fax our terms to your office. You do have a fax machine? MARTY Of course. Osbourne nods and guides Bert out of the office. Neither meet Lynn's smoldering gaze. LYNN You really stuck it to him, Marty. He's surprised by her attack. MARTY What? What do you mean? Lynn doesn't respond. She fights back tears. LYNN I'm not losing Nicholas. I can't lose him. MARTY It'll be all right. We'll get him. She doesn't look reassured. INT. BASEMENT - DAY It's the dark basement again. Same table. Same answering machine on the table, but the red light is blinking now. The clown stands in front of the table staring at the light. The red casts a dull reflection in his black eyes. He pushes the button. The voice that issues from the machine is deep and electronically altered. VOICE (FROM MACHINE) You want to get better, don't you? The clown nods imperceptibly. VOICE (FROM MACHINE) You are getting better. Not much longer and you'll be cured. But first...take the van. CLOWN The murder van... There's a pause as the voice seems to consider this. Is it an answering machine or some kind of intercom? VOICE (FROM MACHINE) Do not kill her. Follow her. Frighten her. Make her doubt her own sanity. But do not harm her...yet. Let no one else see you. Go. The clown turns and leaves. INT. HOUSE - DAY Lynn walks in, her cel phone to her ear. LYNN I'm not kidding you. He's going for full custody, Julie. He wants me to pay him. JULIE (PHONE) That bastard. LYNN God, I feel like I'm having a nervous breakdown. I'm telling you...there was a clown outside my door last night. JULIE (PHONE) You said that. You were probably just exhausted. LYNN I feel like I'm living in a nightmare, Julie. JULIE (PHONE) Just take some deep breaths. So what are you going to do? LYNN I'm going to paint that picture for Mr. Parrish. Then I'm going to use that money to hire the best attorney in town to kick his lawyer's ass! JULIE (PHONE) That a girl! LYNN Hey, I got someone calling on the other line, could be my lawyer. Can I call you back later? JULIE (PHONE) Sure thing. Talk to you soon. LYNN Bye. (clicks a button) Hello? TUCK (PHONE) Lynn. It's Tuck. Lynn smiles. Even with the events of the day, Tuck can bring a smile to her face. She's got it bad for him. LYNN Hi. How are you? TUCK (PHONE) I was gonna ask you the same thing. LYNN I'm okay. I mean, about last night. It's just, well there's other stuff-- TUCK (PHONE) Wanna go get a bite to eat? She's tempted, but there's so much to do. LYNN I'd like to, but-- There's a KNOCK on the door. LYNN Hold on a minute. She goes to the door and opens it. Tuck's standing there, his cel phone to his ear. He's got his mischievous smile in place. TUCK (into phone) Hey Lynn, can I call you back? Lynn smiles and plays his game. LYNN (into phone) Sure. They both hang up. Lynn opens the screen door for him. TUCK So I was thinking...the circus is in town and if you wanted to go see some friendly clowns for once... That idea doesn't thrill Lynn. LYNN I don't think so. TUCK Why are you so afraid of clowns? LYNN I'm not afraid of them. TUCK You are too. LYNN I am not. Just because I paint them-- TUCK Just because you paint scary clowns. Only scary clowns. Lynn walks away, picks her mail off the table and busies herself sorting it. LYNN That doesn't mean I'm scared of them. TUCK What does it mean then? That stumps Lynn. TUCK It's okay. There's even a word for it. Coulrophobia. LYNN Coulrophobia? TUCK Fear of clowns. Lot of people have it. LYNN Really? TUCK I'm not smart enough to make up a word like that. LYNN So what are you afraid of? He takes a moment. A playful smile on his face. Weighing the moment; to tell the truth or lie? TUCK Silence. Being alone. He's still smiling. But something in his eyes is daring her to understand his words. LYNN Lots of people feel that way. So how could you possibly be alone? He doesn't answer. TUCK Want to do something strange? LYNN That's a loaded question. TUCK You like to take pictures? LYNN Sure. I do a lot of photo- referencing. TUCK Grab your camera. Come on. Again, she knows she shouldn't be doing it. There's something about him that draws her though. Like a moth to the flame. LYNN Okay. Just let me call Amanda first... EXT. HOUSE Today, Tuck has his motorcycle, a sleek black machine that looks built for speed. LYNN On that? TUCK Perfectly safe. He hands her a helmet. He hops on and helps her mount the bike behind him. TUCK Hold on. He starts the motorcycle and ROARS off, Lynn gripping him tightly around the waist. Behind them, a van with tinted-black windows starts up and pulls out. EXT. WOODS - DAY Tuck pulls his cycle into a cul-de-sac off of the main road. A high fence runs the entire length of the road, but there's a hole in it where it curves for the cul-de-sac. He helps Lynn off and stacks the helmets on the back. TUCK Come on. He leads her to the hole and helps her climb through. Once through, they're in a wooded area. Lots of trees and ivy and overgrowth. Tuck takes her hand and leads her. EXT. LAND OF MYTH They emerge from the woods into a huge clear area. Everywhere you look is the remnants of what used to be a theme park devoted to fairy tales. A plastic statue of Jack(no sign of Jill) lies on the ground covered by weeds. A tall beanstalk like the one Jack might have climbed(had his been made of metal) creeps up to the sky but doesn't go as far as it used to. A castle that was once pristine is falling to ruin and ivy threatens to pull down its every wall. LYNN Where are we? TUCK It was called The Land Of Myth. They closed it down about fifteen years ago. LYNN Oh my God...I've been here. As a kid. TUCK Me too. It was popular for a while. As they talk, they're walking through what's left of the displays. Lynn begins taking pictures. TUCK Kind of creepy now, isn't it? LYNN Tell you the truth, I thought it was kind of creepy back then. TUCK You did? LYNN Something about it gave me the willies. But now, to see it like this...why did they leave everything here? TUCK Don't know. Maybe it was hard to move. Maybe no one wanted it. She keeps snapping pics. TUCK We'll have to compare pictures sometime. LYNN You take pictures? TUCK Yep. I took a lot of photography classes in college. LYNN I wish I'd brought some black and white film. TUCK It's okay, you can make them black and white with a computer. LYNN Really? TUCK Sure. You can do just about anything with a computer. There is movement behind them as the clown peers from around one of the exhibits. Lynn says nothing. She's mulling over something in her mind. Tuck senses it and gives her time, just keeps checking out all the relics. LYNN Listen. I have to level with you. My life is kind of a train wreck right now. TUCK So? LYNN Well...what are we doing? TUCK (shrugs) Getting to know each other. LYNN Why? Tuck's playing stupid. TUCK What do you mean, why? LYNN Come on. I'm attracted to you and I think you're attracted to me. But this is...it's just a bad time. TUCK (playing stupid) You're attracted to me? Lynn stops walking and smirks at him until he gives. TUCK Okay okay. So we're past the subtext. What's the problem? LYNN It's really complicated. TUCK You said that already. You're getting divorced. What's complicated? LYNN You asked for it. TUCK Give it to me. CLOWN POV He's stalking them. They continue to talk, oblivious of the fact that there's a psychotic clown standing fifty feet behind them. He moves closer still. RESUME LYNN --and he's trying to take my son away from me. TUCK Why is the house still in his ex- wife's name? How long's it been since he was married to her? LYNN Ten years. TUCK That's...strange. LYNN That's not even the half of it. Now I find out that he hasn't been working for the better part of a year. He'd leave the house everyday, but where he went...? TUCK Jesus. LYNN See, I have a lot of stuff to work out before I can even...you know. Tuck only smiles. LYNN I should have known, I mean he's a man with a cat. Single men with cats are bad news. At least, that's what the magazines say. TUCK (laughs) Did you get enough pictures? LYNN Ready to go? He nods. They head back the way they came, not seeing the clown as he circles around a structure to keep out of their sight. At one point, he's close enough to reach out and touch them. BACK AT THE MOTORCYCLE Lynn climbs on back as Tuck pulls on his driving gloves. He straightens the motorcycle, and in the side mirror the clown ducks back into the bushes. TUCK Ready? She grabs him around the stomach. LYNN Yeah. He takes off. DISSOLVE TO: EXT. HOUSE - LATER Tuck pulls his cycle up to the curb and turns it off. She hops off just as Detective Peters gets out of his car across the street. He looks like he's been waiting for a while. DETECTIVE PETERS Miss Blodgett? Lynn turns and sees him. Tuck does too, and something passes across his face. He can tell Peters is a cop, and there's instant friction. Like two alpha males trying to stake out their territory. DETECTIVE PETERS How you doing? LYNN Fine. There's the briefest moment where the detective waits for Lynn to introduce him to Tuck. She doesn't, so he takes the initiative. DETECTIVE PETERS Detective Peters, homicide. TUCK Homicide? DETECTIVE PETERS Yeah, that's when somebody dies. TUCK (no shit) Thanks. DETECTIVE PETERS There was a murder yesterday a few doors down. (looks to Lynn then back to Tuck) Now Miss Blodgett is seeing clowns in her backyard. Tuck shoots Lynn a questioning look. She rolls her eyes, like she's tired of this guy. Tuck turns his attention back to Peters. TUCK Takes a clown to catch a clown, huh? He laughs like he's kidding, but Peters gets the jibe. He gives a little laugh, makes a show of examining Tuck's motorcycle. DETECTIVE PETERS You know what us cops call these? TUCK No. DETECTIVE PETERS A donorcycle. Whenever there's an accident with one of them, we pick up the rider and his brain's all scrambled but the rest of him is A-okay. Perfect organ donor. Tuck's not impressed. TUCK You know what we call cops where I come from? DETECTIVE PETERS No, what? TUCK We don't. He kick-starts the motorcycle and drives off, giving a wink to Lynn. DETECTIVE PETERS Who's your friend? LYNN Can I help you with something? DETECTIVE PETERS I don't know yet. LYNN Why are you here then? DETECTIVE PETERS I'm a detective. I'm...detecting. LYNN (tiring of it) And what are you detecting? DETECTIVE PETERS ...I've got a funny feeling about you, Miss Blodgett. LYNN Well. Try and keep it in your pants, would you? She turns on her heel and heads to her door. The detective watches her ass the entire way but makes no attempt to follow. DISSOLVE TO: INT. HOUSE - EVENING Lynn's sketching from the picture of Parrish's father. Nothing fancy, just some concept sketches to get the look down. DISSOLVE TO: INT. AMANDA'S HOUSE -SAME TIME Amanda's at the computer. She types something, reads, smirks, types something again. She tries again. DISSOLVE TO: INT. HOUSE - LATER Lynn's got about ten pages of sketches next to her. Outside her window, night has fallen. But the sketch she's working on now is different. She's got colored pencils and charcoal, and is pencilling the clown she seems to be obsessed with. Except now his eyes are exactly like the one she saw outside her sliding-glass door the previous night. Black, reflecting a pinprick of light. She stops and takes a good look at her handiwork. Then realizes that she's put off her paying project to do more sketches of her obsession. LYNN For God's sake... She pushes it to the side and begins setting up her easel to paint. DISSOLVE TO: INT. AMANDA'S HOUSE -SAME TIME Amanda scrolls down, clicks. A new page pops up. Amanda begins reading, but suddenly sits back. AMANDA Woah. She reads some more, scrolls down. AMANDA Woah. She grabs the phone, casting a glance at the clock. Ten forty. Might be a little late with Lynn having Nicky. Disappointed, she hangs up the phone. With a click of the mouse, she opens up her email and begins writing. Just a quick note. She clicks SEND. DISSOLVE TO: INT. HOUSE - SAME TIME Lynn paints. Broad strokes, getting a feel for the paper, for the piece. NICHOLAS (O.S.) Mom-meeeeee! She's instantly broken out of her artist trance. She rushes up the stairs. LYNN You thirsty, Nicky? DISSOLVE TO: INT. AMANDA'S HOUSE/BATHROOM -SAME TIME The bathroom is steamy as Amanda steps out, one towel around her body as she uses another to dry her hair. She moves into her bedroom. The head towel gets tossed onto the bed. She begins blow-drying her hair with the electric hair dryer on her dresser. Casually. No hurry. She spares a glance at herself in the mirror as she blows her hair back. She notices the curtains of her room move gently in the breeze behind her. She frowns and switches off the dryer. She goes to the window. She has to climb onto the bed to get to it, and immediately there's a slight TINKLING of glass. Behind the bed lies broken glass. There doesn't seem to be any of it on the bedsheet. Amanda frowns even more. What the--? She pushes the curtain out of the way. There's a hole in her window about the size of a baseball. Or a fist. For a moment it really doesn't bother her. Some kid must have thrown something through her window. Then she sees her window screen lying in the grass outside, partially bent. She pushes curtains aside to look at the top of the window. It's unlocked. Her eyes go wide. She's frightened but not the kind prone to panic. She goes for the portable phone by her bed...it's not there. Just an empty cradle. She curses almost silently. Where did she put it? She takes a quick look around her bedroom but doesn't see it. Looking at the doorway leading into the dark hallway, she seems to have a hard time swallowing. She creeps to the doorway and listens for the sounds of an intruder. Silence. For one moment she's in indecision. Maybe it's nothing(she forgot to lock the window), could have been a baseball. If someone broke into her house he would have fled when he heard someone was home... INTO THE HALLWAY she moves slowly, one hand held to the towel around her body. She passes the living room(no one there) and gets to the kitchen. She quickly moves to the wall. Stops. Another empty cradle. No phone. That's strange. That's wrong. Sensing something in her peripheral vision she turns her head slightly. The clown stands in the opening between the kitchen and dining room. Amanda's startled, but only for a moment. And then, rather then being scared, she scoffs. AMANDA What the hell are you supposed to be? The axe, which had been hanging out of sight by his leg, THWACKS into the kitchen wall. CLOWN Better. That does it. Amanda runs for the front door. The clown doesn't bother pulling his axe out of the wall. He moves quickly around the other side, intercepting her before she gets to the door. He grabs for her--only gets the towel--it comes loose. A now naked Amanda stumbles as the towel is jerked from her. The clown tosses it to the side and grabs her by the hair before she can scramble more than a few feet. He drags her struggling form back into the kitchen. He grabs her by the neck and SLAMS her back into the wall so her feet aren't touching the ground anymore. She's choking. Has to use both hands to keep from suffocating completely. The clown is suddenly aware of her nakedness. He runs a finger down from her shoulder to the curve of her breast. He studies her like he's never seen a naked women before. She makes a desperate grab at his face, raking her nails down one side of his cheek. The gashes aren't deep, but they take off some of his paint. He SLAMS her head against the wall. Casually he tosses her to the floor. She's choking, trying to get her air back. Weakly crawling backward away from him. He wrenches the axe from the wall. She tries to beg--can't talk, her larynx is crushed--puts an arm up. The clown takes a two handed grip on the axe. Getting ready to chop wood. He swings. INT. HOUSE - LATER Lynn's finished a painting. Very nice, but not as clean as her paintings on display. And it's missing something...some emotion. She's looking at the photo closely then looking back at the picture. LYNN What are you missing...? She can't figure it out and she's too tired to try. She covers the painting and goes to bed. DISSOLVE TO: INT. HOUSE - DAY Lynn enters from the front door. The PHONE IS RINGING. She rushes to get it, leaving the front door open. The phone stops ringing the moment her hand touches it. She curses silently. TUCK (O.S.) Knock knock. LYNN Hi. Tuck's standing right outside her screen door. TUCK You're probably getting sick of me, aren't you? Lynn pretends like she is, gives him a sympathetic smile. LYNN Now that you mention it... TUCK I called earlier... LYNN I was dropping Nicky off with his father. TUCK Oh. Well, did you want to do lunch? LYNN Where? TUCK At La Casa Tucker. LYNN I should be painting...and do you really have a job? TUCK Come on. Best food in the state. Indecision again. Again, what she wants to do beats out what she should do. LYNN All right. I can spare an hour or so. He gives her his winningest smile. TUCK Excellent. EXT. TUCK'S HOUSE - LATER Lynn pulls her mini-van up behind Tuck's motorcycle. The house is huge. Tuck gets off his cycle and leads her into the house. INT. TUCK'S HOUSE Lynn follows him in and WHISTLES appreciatively. Two spiral staircases run on both sides of the foyer to the second level. Expensive art adorns the walls. TUCK (trying to be modest) I got a good deal. LYNN (not buying it) Hm-hmmm. TUCK It ain't much, but I call it home. What's your pleasure? Chinese, Italian, you name it. LYNN Is your maid going to cook it? He flashes a reproachful smile. TUCK I don't have a maid. An orange cat strolls out from a side room. TUCK Hey Tiggs, we have a guest. Lynn sees the cat, sees Tuck squat down to pet it, and she smiles sardonically as she remembers what she said about men and cats. LYNN Do you have a bathroom? I have to pull my foot out of my mouth. TUCK It's okay. Tiggs is no ordinary cat. He's a wolf at heart. (stands up) So what would you like to see on the menu? LYNN Surprise me. EXT. HOUSE - SAME TIME Detective Peters, OFFICER PATRICK and another cop stand at the door, having already knocked. Peters knocks again, loud and insistent. No answer. Peters turns to the cop. DETECTIVE PETERS See if any of the windows are broken. The cop heads around the side of the house. DETECTIVE PETERS (into his radio) Dispatch, this is four-oh-one. DISPATCH (RADIO) Go four-oh-one. DETECTIVE PETERS I need info on a three-twenty-two that happened in Queen Anne's County two nights ago. I need addresses on both victims. DISPATCH (RADIO) Copy. Officer Patrick--behind him--clears his throat. OFFICER PATRICK Assault and battery, huh? DETECTIVE PETERS Huh? No, attempted robbery. OFFICER PATRICK That's three-twenty-one. DETECTIVE PETERS Nuh-uh. OFFICER PATRICK Yeah. DETECTIVE PETERS Did they change it? OFFICER PATRICK No. Always been three-twenty-one. Peters is miffed. This is the kind of shit that ruins his day. DETECTIVE PETERS (into radio) Dispatch, this is four-oh-one again. DISPATCH (RADIO) Go four-oh-one. DETECTIVE PETERS (into radio) That three-twenty-two may be a three-twenty-one. DISPATCH (WALKIE-TALKIE) Say again? DETECTIVE PETERS (into radio) I need info on an attempted robbery. Whatever the number is. One of the victims is named Lynn Blodgett. I need the name and address of the other. DISPATCH (RADIO) Copy. Hold on. DETECTIVE PETERS (to Patrick, frustrated) Fuckin' codes. DISSOLVE TO: INT. TUCK'S HOUSE - LATER Tuck and Lynn sit at the table, having just finished a lunch that probably should have been a dinner. Lynn leans back, patting her stomach. LYNN Wow. I have to tell you, I'm surprised. TUCK Why? LYNN You really don't strike me as the kind of guy who can cook. TUCK Ouch. (picks up his plate and hers) Do I strike you as the kind who can wash dishes? LYNN Maybe with a dishwasher. TUCK Make yourself at home while I clean up. LYNN Sure you don't want help? TUCK I'll be all right. She wanders into what passes as a living room, but is more like a small museum. Bookshelves line one side, and a huge plush couch separates the entertainment center from it. A family of four could live in his big-screen T.V. She peruses his books while they talk back and forth between rooms. TUCK You said you should be painting. What are you working on? Wait, let me guess: A clown. LYNN Ha ha. Stick to cooking. I've got a commission piece to do. Has to be done in...well, two days now. TUCK Not much time for a painting. LYNN The money's supposed to make up for it. TUCK Can I ask what your going rate is? LYNN For this piece, I'm getting twenty thousand. TUCK Ha! I told you that painting I bought from you was a steal. Lynn's been flipping through occasional books. Tuck's interests are wide-ranging. There are a bunch of art books. On a lower shelf sits a stack of magazines. Lynn sees one she recognizes and pulls it out. LYNN We'll see. I'm really not sure I can do what the guy is asking. TUCK What's he asking? Lynn flips through the magazine called "MODERN PAINTER" and sees a page which has been bent in to save the place. LYNN A picture of his father. The page opens to reveal a large photo of Lynn, followed by an article about her. TUCK Doesn't sound that tough. Lynn frowns. She was under the impression that Tuck knew nothing about her when they met. She flips to the front and notes that the magazine is months old and has a subscription label on it with Tuck's name and address. Not a recent buy. LYNN His father was a clown and he wants him to look a certain way. She grabs another magazine out of the stack. One called "ART GALLERY". There are two pages folded in. The first is a painting of hers with its name(MARY'S CLOWN) and her name under it. The second page shows a picture of her with a short biography next to it. Now she's alarmed. TUCK I meant to ask you. You think it's strange that guy tried to mug us with a knife when he's got a gun in his coat? She's doesn't want to panic. Ask him about it? Was their meeting just a chance thing, or has he been...stalking her? LYNN Maybe it wasn't loaded. TUCK We wouldn't have known that-- He's interrupted by THE DOORBELL. Lynn hastily drops the Art Gallery mag on top of a pile of magazines next to the fireplace, then goes toward the front door as Tuck answers it. Detective Peters stands on the front stoop. DETECTIVE PETERS Lynn Blodgett here? Clearly, Tuck's not pleased that Peters has stopped by. TUCK Yeah. LYNN (steps into his line of sight) What is it, detective? DETECTIVE PETERS Could you come with me? TUCK What's going on? DETECTIVE PETERS I need to talk to you, Miss Blodgett. Let's go back to your house. Since Peters is ignoring him, Tuck physically steps between Peters and Lynn. TUCK What's going on? DETECTIVE PETERS You want to step out of the way? TUCK You want to talk to my lawyer? Lynn puts a hand on his arm. LYNN It's okay. (to Peters) I take it this is important? DETECTIVE PETERS Very. Tuck doesn't seem to notice that Lynn's a bit relieved to be getting away. LYNN Thanks for a great lunch. TUCK My pleasure. Give me a call later, huh? LYNN I will. OUTSIDE Detective Peters sees her to her car. LYNN Can you tell me what's going on? DETECTIVE PETERS Not here. LYNN Nicholas--my son--nothing's-- DETECTIVE PETERS It's not about your son. Please follow me back to your house. He heads to his car. INT. HOUSE - LATER Lynn and the detective enter. As they shut the door we can see Officer Patrick right outside the door. LYNN Well? DETECTIVE PETERS Sit down. Please. He escorts her into the living room and gets her to sit on the couch. DETECTIVE PETERS Amanda Greene was murdered last night. Her head jerks back like she was punched. LYNN What? DETECTIVE PETERS I'm sorry, I know she worked for you. She's a strong woman. Doesn't want to show her tears, so she fights them back. LYNN She was my friend. It's the only thing she can get out. The tears course down her cheeks. DETECTIVE PETERS There's more. I wish I were better with the tact, but I'm not. LYNN What? DETECTIVE PETERS The scene of--where she died...I mean, it's not just that. We don't have the coroner's report yet, but I'd bet my shield that... (licks his lips, probably shouldn't say anything) ...well, I think the person that killed your friend is the same person that killed the family three doors down from you. LYNN What? She's having a hard time dealing with it. Any of it. Amanda...dead, killed...same as the neighbors... DETECTIVE PETERS I don't think it's a coincidence. I think someone is zer