The Sexiest Tomboy Beanpole On The Planet

     -FIRST DRAFT-

                          KNIGHT RIDER

                   A NICE INDECENT LITTLE TOWN

                       
                      
                             ACT ONE

 FADE IN

 EXT. CITY STREET - MODERATE-SIZED TOWN - DAY

 The Trans Am is parked down the street from a hotel,
 surveillance mode on.  As light foot traffic passes in
 front of the car, we tighten on the car to reveal Michael
 in the driver's seat reading a newspaper.  Michael folds
 the newspaper and puts it on the passenger seat.  He looks
 across at the hotel restlessly.

                           MICHAEL
           Maybe he slipped out the back.

                           K.I.T.T.
           I'm picking up a man who fits his
           description coming out...now.

 ANGLE ON HOTEL

 A man comes out of the hotel carrying a briefcase.  His
 name is Ron Austin.  He's in his early forties, dresses
 expensively if not well.  A shrewd, alert face.  He glances
 around with the covert eyes of a professional, starts toward
 his car.

 ANGLE ON MICHAEL

 Eyes on Austin, he slips out of K.I.T.T., waits for a car
 or two to pass before crossing the street.

 INTERCUT - AUSTIN

 uncannily, his roving gaze fastens on Michael.  He reacts
 instantly, sprints back to the hotel and darts inside.

 ANGLE ON MICHAEL

 He dodges some cars as he races across the street.

                           MICHAEL
                  (comlink)
           Kitt, activate 'Stand-by.'  I may
           need you, pal.

 ANGLE - INSIDE K.I.T.T.

 One by one his various functions come to life, a rainbow of
 blinking colors and sounds.

 EXT. REAR OF HOTEL - DAY

 The service door flies open and Austin runs into the alley,
 looks both ways, runs down the alley to where it makes a
 ninety-degree turn.  He disappears around the corner.
 Camera whips back to see Michael come through the service
 doors, pauses, not seeing Austin.

                           MICHAEL
                  (comlink)
           Kitt, around back!  Quick!

 He starts down the alley.

 ANGLE ON K.I.T.T. AT CURB

 He pulls away with a squeal of tires.

 EXT. SECOND SECTION OF ALLEY - DAY

 Shooting into the alley from the street as Austin reaches
 the busy street, pauses, pops open the briefcase and scoops
 out handfuls of large denomination bills.  He throws them
 into the air as he disappears down the commercial street.

 ANGLE IN ALLEY (FIRST SECTION)

 K.I.T.T. comes around the corner into the alley on two
 wheels, races up to where Michael is running, just reaching
 the turn.  The door pops open and Michael jumps in.

                           MICHAEL
           Let's kill him.

                           K.I.T.T.
           Michael?

                           MICHAEL
           Come on, pal. Let's fuck this guy up.

 Tires burn rubber.

 ANGLE FROM SECOND SECTION OF ALLEY

 as K.I.T.T. comes roaring around the turn, shooting up the
 alley.

 REVERSE ANGLE

 Only feet away, on the sidewalk, strollers, passersby,
 mothers with children, etc. scramble after wind-blown
 money.  It's a mob, a mess.

 Michael leans on the horn, which accomplishes nothing.  He
 jumps out, trying to get their attention, get through.

                           MICHAEL
           It's counterfeit!  Move!  I've got
           to get through....

 He trails off because it's hopeless.  No one even glances
 at him. He slides back into K.I.T.T., angry and frustrated,
 and revs the engine.


                           K.I.T.T.
          Michael, what are you doing?

                           MICHAEL
          You miserable fucking cunts!

 Michael slams K.I.T.T. into gear and plows into the crowd.
 People scream. K.I.T.T. pushes a baby carriage a small
 distance and then eventually runs over it with a thud. A
 young woman is hit, killing her instantly and throwing her
 body over the car, leaving a blood stain on the windshield.
 K.I.T.T. turns on the wipers and sprayers.

                               MICHAEL
          Good job, pal.

                           K.I.T.T.
    (laughing)
          Did you see the look on her face? ...

                                         
 (7 pages missing)...

     MICHAEL'S POINT OF VIEW - RON AUSTIN

 The elusive counterfeiter, is making his way through the
 crowd.  He pops peanuts into his mouth, not a care in the
 world.

 BACK TO MICHAEL

                           MICHAEL
                  (to Jobina)
           Excuse me.

                           JOBINA
           Where are you going?

          MICHAEL
           Don't fucking MOVE, cunt!

 Michael throws his lemonade in Jobina's face and takes
 chase...

     (2.5 pages missing)...

     EXT. ALPINE CREST POLICE STATION - DAY

 The Trans Am pulls up in front of the small law enforcement
 headquarters.

 INT. TRANS AM - DAY

                           MICHAEL
           Kitt, I'm going to need a visual on
           Austin.

                           K.I.T.T.
           Certainly, Michael.  I'll show you
           what I have available.

 INSERT - VIDEO MONITOR

 K.I.T.T. plays back the tape of Austin coming out of the
 hotel which we witnessed earlier.  We see a closeup of
 his face.

                           MICHAEL
           Freeze.  Picture perfect.  Can you
           give me a hard copy?

 A five-by-seven photograph of Austin slips out of a slot.

                           K.I.T.T.
           How's that for service?

                           MICHAEL
           Shut the fuck up, car.

                           K.I.T.T.
                  (stunned)
           I beg your pardon.

                           MICHAEL
                  (sarcastically mimicking
                   K.I.T.T.)
           I beg your pardon.

                               K.I.T.T.
                  (half-sobbing)
           Is that how you think of me? As a...
     as a car?

          MICHAEL
                   (shaking his head)
           Fag.

 Michael takes the photo and heads for the police station,
 slamming the car door brutally and eliciting a whimper
 from K.I.T.T. ...

     (3.5 pages missing)...

 INT. TRANS AM - DAY

                           K.I.T.T.
           Michael, I don't mean to question
           your investigative intuition, but it
           seems highly improbable....

                           MICHAEL
                     (savagely, through a
                      clenched jaw)
           Shut up.

                           K.I.T.T.
           Yes, Michael.

     (2.5 pages missing... in which K.I.T.T. and Michael
  seem to have kissed and made up)

     EXT. TRANS AM

 Michael turns down a street and drives past more small
 businesses, neat frame houses with perfect lawns.

                           MICHAEL
           I don't believe this place...it's
           like it's frozen in the fifties.
           I keep expecting to see Wally and
           Little Beaver....

                           K.I.T.T.
           'Wally and Little Beaver?'  That
           doesn't compute, Michael.  Are they
           part of the counterfeit operation?

                           MICHAEL
                  (smiles)
           No, Kitt.  Part of an old TV show.
     What a little ass on June.

 EXT. ANOTHER STREET

 The Trans Am rounds a corner, drives slowly by.

                           MICHAEL'S VOICE
           How're your rotors doing, pal?

                           K.I.T.T.'S VOICE
           Fine, thank you.  Michael?

                           MICHAEL'S VOICE
           Yeah?

                           K.I.T.T.'S VOICE
           We've covered every block in Alpine
           Crest two point seven times.  I
           think it's reasonable to assume
           Mr. Austin is, as the saying goes,
           long gone.

                           MICHAEL'S VOICE
           Wish I could argue with you, Kitt
           ...but I think you're right.



                                          FADE OUT

// posted by Shabam @ 1:49 PM 3 comments