FADE IN

INT. 757 BUSINESS CLASS. - DAY

Nice soft, whitish, intimate aquarium lighting.

Muted, drowned: Pants. Screams. Sobs. Pants. Pants.

Shivering shapes in the background: wailing, panting: two IBM CONSULTANTS . An old VIETNAMESE COUPLE, coiled in each other’s arms. A mid 40s White ACCOUNTANT quietly prays.

Beautiful eyelids. Superb lips. SAUDI BOY passes by, inches away. He can’t believe his ears.
Early 30s. Scruffy, lean, wiry young-looking lad. Dutiful eyes. He wears jeans and windbreaker. He walks as in a dream.

4 MALE INSURANCE CEOS, mid 40s, scrambling on their cells. 3 petrified PREPPY SCHOOL GIRLS.

Saudi Boy turns around. His accent is terrible.

SAUDI BOY

You stole my Death.

Drenched shirt. Out of shape. White. Mid 40s. Good Dad. Average family man. The FLIGHT NAVIGATOR begs with his hands.

SAUDI BOY (CONT'D)

You frigging stole my Death.

Saudi Boy shoots him in the groin.

The schoolgirls scream like one.

Saudi Boy chooses randomly. Shoots the middle one. Returns to Flight Navigator. Shoots him again. Again.

Flight Navigator dies surprised. Enraged. Cursing.

The plane banks. Sudden. Sharp. By the windows buildings appear and disappear.

Inside, passengers shake like dolls. Scream. Wail. Pant. Pant. Pant.

The plane returns horizontal.

Bony face, razor lips, stern like a Quaker monk: Accountant briefly checks around him, passenger after passenger, returns to his prayer.

Aisle 9B: sister does caught in headlights: a senior BLACK WOMAN and GRANDDAUGHTER. Saudi Boy studies them both.

SAUDI BOY (CONT'D)

Out of my hands now.

The plane drops one hundred feet in three seconds.

Saudi Boy laughs his head off.

One IBM CONSULTANT runs over the old couple. Heads for the back. Two CEOS follow him.
Saudi Boys shrugs.

BRAKATAKATAKATA. The sound wave hits like a train.

The two CEOS crawl back. One soils himself.

The whole Business Class pants. Pants. Pants.

Cabin lights turn off. Turn back on.

Saudi Boy pockets his gun. Adjusts his windbreaker.

The plane drops another 50 feet.

Air masks come out.

Through the windows: Freaking close. Passing fast: buildings.

PANTS. SOBS. PANTS. PANTS. PANTS. SCREAMS. PANTS. PANTS.

Accountant signs himself. Takes a deep breath. Unfastens his seat belt. Gets up.

COACHROCHES pop up out of nowhere.

The Three CEOS kick the shit out of each other.

The CAPTAIN stumbles out. His hair is full white. He crosses himself. Curls up on the floor. Saudi Boy welcomes him.

SAUDI BOY (CONT'D)

C’est la vie.

Saudi Boy starts dancing.

He dances the traditional steps men of his tribe danced. He dances happy. He dances relaxed while cockroaches scatter over walls, seats and people.

Accountant passes by. Inches away. Focused like a crocodile. Long, dark filaments follow him close, like a thin gray cloud behind his head.

By the windows, swift: another office tower.

ACCOUNTANT

Hamid?

Saudi Boy keeps dancing.

ACCOUNTANT (CONT'D)

Hamid Ben Said Dajiwa?

Saudi Boy notices the CAMERA. His joy is childlike.

SAUDI BOY

Uncle? Uncle?

ACCOUNTANT

Corporal Hamid Ben Said Dajiwa?

Saudi Boy recognizes Accountant. Gives the military salute. Stands to attention. Accountant pops him three times.

SAUDI BOY

You’re a good slave, you know?

Accountant finishes Saudi Boy with a bullet in the neck. Heads for the back of the cabin. The filaments around his back grow thicker like a cancer.

The plane veers right. Sharp. Towers and streets climb up the cabin windows.

BRAKA-POW-TAKA-POW-POW-TA.

Saudi Boy dances by his dead body. He dances the traditional steps men of his tribe danced. He dances happy and relaxed while cockroaches scatter over walls, seats and people.

Accountant returns. Turns to the weeping CEO seating next.

ACCOUNTANT

Would you mind moving a little? Thanks.

Accountant relaxes. Pull out a flask. Left nostril. Deep sniff. Right nostril. Deep sniff. Accountant blanks out. Sucks his thumb with impunity.

The filaments around him swarm with a life of their own, like millions of electric tadpoles. Move to the side. Coagulate into something.

Something tall. Orange and green hues all over. Human torso. Scaly. Crocodile head. Deep glinting eyes. Piranha teeth.

REPTILIAN watches Saudi Boy dancing. Turns to Accountant.

REPTILIAN

Hello Slave.

Accountant recovers. Recognizes the Reptilian. Tries to cover his fear and resignation. Stands up tired

ACCOUNTANT

Hello Master.

Saudi Boy notices the Reptilian, like a kitten a raccoon.

His own dead body jolts.

Saudi Boy runs to a cabin wall. Pushes and pushes against it. No exit. Another wall. No exit. Saudi Boy tries the ceiling.

No exit. Around him passengers collapse gagging.

Saudi Boy pleads to the camera.

SAUDI BOY

I’ve learned my lesson. Let me out.

Reptilian notices the camera. Surprise. Fear. Rage.

SAUDI BOY (CONT'D)

Get me out. Now. Get me the fuck out of here.

Accountant studies the situation. Quickly pulls out his gun. Shoots himself in the head. Dies relieved.

Reptilian coils up with extreme resentment. Focuses.

Accountant’s dead body jerks up. Shakes like an epileptic. Rolls over. One can see the bloody carpet through the hole in the side of his head.

Accountant gets up. Finds his balance. Gives Reptilian a military salute, eyes dead, mouth smiling, hole gaping. Starts walking toward the camera.

Zoom in: a cabin window. The light. Outside.

EXT. 757 - CONTINUOUS

MANHATTAN is beautiful: buildings like Lego blocks. Smoke Whips. Chimneys. Antennas. Yellow Dinky Toys. 360 degrees turn: gorgeous sunset. Six CHEMTRAILS. The 757 moves away.

A small missile-shaped object follows it. Passes close under the plane. Gets in front. Leads. Turns left. The 757 follows. They both head for the twin towers.

The plane. Closer. closer. Cabin windows. Closer. Closer. The tower. Closer. Wall of Windows. Closer. Closer.

IMPACT.

INT. 757 ECONOMY CLASS. – MOMENTS LATER

Silence but the distant, ongoing rumble of the boom. White light with millions of metallic tints: millions of particles suspensions. Million of Ashes.

Thin gray black film that form shapes that form shadows.

Shadows of airplane seats. Of a couple coiled in each other’s arms. Of three young persons trying to protect themselves. Saudi Boy’s shadow. Shadows everywhere. Hiding. Wailing. Lying down. Falling. Shaking. Accountant’s shadow.

Silence. Silence and shadows.

The Captain gets up from his shadow.

Flight Navigator gets up. Black Grandmother and Child. Blue Collar worker. Old Vietnamese couple. They are fully shocked.

Nobody speaks. The three high school students still shake. The mid one scratches where Saudi Boy shot her. Silence. No one notices the camera.

Accountant gets up. Looks around.

Everybody waits. They look up. They look around. They look through the camera. They wait.

Accountant cries. His tears are silent.

Black grandmother notices the Reptilians, like a kitten three raccoons.

Silent, sluggish, clumsy panic all over the cabin.

Grandmother runs to a cabin wall. Pushes and pushes against it. No exit. Another wall. No exit. She tries the ceiling. No exit.

Reptilian locates the camera. Gives it the finger.

FADE OUT.