Speaking In Tongues
Scribbling In Voices

TALKING DANGER

by Stas Tyrkin


From the Editor: This is the first part of the new Stas Tyrkin's spectacular script. All similarities are purely coincidential. There's no such place as Vladivostok anywhere in Russia.


Sound of a radio being tuned.
AGAINST BLACK
TITLE IN: ĎADAPTED FROM A TRUE STORYí
GIDEON: (Off-screen, from following scene) What I like the most...
TITLE DISAPPEARS
FADE IN:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
TWO RUSSIAN MOBSTERS are going down the street of a Russian seaside city in an old Toyota. While they drive and talk, the communism symbols come down from the buildings and roofs. Itís a beautiful summer day.
GIDEON: (Off-screen) ...about this fuckiní country and specifically this fuckiní city...
CUT TO:
INT. TOYOTA (MOVING) - DAY
The mobsters are GIDEON, driving the car, and IGNAT, who wants to find something decent, something to his taste, on the radio.
GIDEON: ...is their fuckiní unpredictability. Here you never know...
IGNAT: Ya never know fuckiní what?
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
A huge neon communist star falls down from the roof of a high building, being unpropped by lazy workers.
TITLE IN: "VLADIVOSTOK, RUSSIA
THE TENTH YEAR OF PERESTROIKA"
CUT TO:
INT. TOYOTA (MOVING) - DAY
GIDEON: Whatís gonna happen next. Itís just like fuckiní nature.
IGNAT finally finds the band he was looking for.
YOUNG MALE VOICE starts talking.
ALEX: (Over radio) So this is the talk show "Perversions of Our City", volume one.
GIDEON: Okay. I like it noisy. Letís hear this one.
IGNAT: (Overlapping the radio host) Only if they play prison camp songs. Now, youíve been telling something about nature.
GIDEON: Yeah, man... Here you never know whether itís gonna rain or shine. A day may be all sunny like this, no shit in the sky, and then Ė kaboom! - a hurricane blows your ass to hell. Iím telling you - here you never know.
IGNAT: If you dunno, man, then lemme tell ya what both of us are fuckiní up to today. First, weíre gonna pick up some nasty whores with the huuuugest knockers youíve ever seen, right?
GIDEON smiles and nods in agreement.
IGNAT: Then weíre gonna go with them right to my old buddy who became the governor of this whole damn province - no more and no less... And weíre gonna eat, and drink vodka, and puke, and drink some more; then weíre gonna fuck those bitches to death, then drink again, eat again like two crazy hogs, and fuck some fuckiní more. Thatís exactly the agenda for us big guys today.
GIDEON: Drugs. You forgot drugs.
IGNAT pumps up the volume on the car stereo.
TOYOTA speeds along.
CUT TO:
AS THE CREDITS ROLL:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT/LITTLE BROTHERíS ROOM - DAY
Well-paced music continues as THE CAMERA PANS over the cellophane-covered heads of three boys, in their early teens, sitting on the floor and holding the open tubes of superglue underneath the bags. They are loudly breathing in the superglue vapor.
ARON: (Voice-over) This story, an unwilling participant of which I happened to be, is set in the bizarre Russian seaside city of Vladivostok at the time when perestroikaís illusions had successfully come to an end, although no one had a slightest guess about it - then.
THE CAMERA PANNING stops at the radio standing on the floor next to the boys. This is where the music comes from. It gets a bit down as a YOUNG DJís voice resumes its narration.
ALEX: (Over radio) What? Youíre asking who the hell are we to come up with such a serious topic?
DISSOLVE TO:
EXTREME CLOSEUP - ALEXís LIPS
Talking into the microphone.
ALEX: Oh, weíre just two crazy pervs, Alex and Aron, trying to do our first radio show down here.
CUT TO:
SERIES OF CLOSEUPS -
shining CD rotating on an ARONís finger
his hand putting CD in a player.
CD player closing.
ARON: (Voice-over) I worked as a sound mixer at a newly opened radio station which - the first of its kind in the region - broadcast pop and rock round the clock. My friend and roommate Alex was the host of our shift. We were only eighteen then.
CUT TO:
CLOSEUP - ALEXís LIPS
We SLOWLY DOLLY from those lips to ALEXís full portrait, then to his MEDIUM SHOT until the camera is able to see the FULL SCENE --
INT. LOCAL RADIOSTATION/BROADCASTING ROOM - DAY
Two boys, ALEX and ARON, are hosting the radio show.
ALEX: Weíve sure had a bunch of piss ant interesting jobs before we joined this glorious station. We were pool cleaners, firefighters, speechwriters, morgue paramedics, toilet tissue salesmen, farmboys... We were pimps, for Chissake, especially Aron... Youíre not gonna believe this - weíve been extras in the local theater, mainly in the female parts since all the theatrical girls had no time for Chekhov because of their brothel services...
ARON, smiling, puts a CD in a player.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
The huge communism symbols - hammer-and-sickle, several red stars and Lenin monument - fall down the street with great thunder and break apart just several feet away from Gideonís Toyota passing by.
ARON: (Voice-over) While the sold out papers were singing of democratic glory, the intellectual youth of the city enjoyed the once banned fruit of freedom. Freedom meant that we could say whatever bullshit we wanted...
CUT TO:
INT. TOYOTA (MOVING) - DAY
GIDEON and IGNAT are listening to the radio.
ALEX: (Over radio) -- ...we wrote a porn bestseller entitled The Kremlin Jerk-Off.
IGNAT: (To Gideon) What the fuckís he talking about?
CUT TO:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT/ LITTLE BROTHERíS ROOM - DAY
CLOSE ON KOT - a POTSí little brother - who inhales deeply from inside his cellophane package. PULL BACK as he falls breathless to his already breathless mates.
THE CAMERA BEGINS TRACKING from the little brotherís room THROUGH the wall INTO the living room where the big brother, POTS, is hosting the party. As we enter the living room, ALEXís narration is being amalgamated with loud rock music and the kidsí screams, finally drowning down in noise.
ALEX: (Over radio) ...Thatís how we gained our enormous experience about perverts and things like that. Well, in all honesty, weíre just two crazy freshmen of the university, J-school, and believe me, thatís enough to know everything about perverts...
CUT TO:
INT. RADIO STATION/BROADCASTING ROOM - DAY
In a short moment of rest, ALEX drinks soda hungrily.
FREEZE FRAME on ALEX
ARON: (Voice-over) Alex was a tongue machine. A tremendous chatter-box, he could prate for hours. Whatever he picked up on the street he told his listeners. No one could have imagined, however, that they cared about anything besides the music itself.
ARONís finger pushes the button, and playful music starts playing.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
The same music is coming from a portable radio hanging on the chest of a TRAFFIC POLICE OFFICER.
DOLLY BACK as he stands on the road getting bored.
From his point of view we see GIDEONís car approaching his post.
For no apparent reason, just to entertain himself, the OFFICER pulls TOYOTA over. We see its wheel brake loudly at a dusty curb.
GIDEONís POV: he sees the OFFICER through the carís mirrors, then through a car window, as he approaches the car.
OFFICER: (Saluting Gideon and introducing himself) Pt. Kharlamov...
A car window lowers revealing the face of GIDEON looking hard at big and stupid KHARLAMOV.
GIDEON: (Interrupting Kharlamov) So what, Kharlamov, you wanna fuck me?
KHARLAMOV: (Confused, but trying to sound tough) No, just have a look at your license, please.
GIDEON: Okay. I see youíre a very brave guy. You not only dared to stop me, youíre askiní me to show you my fuckiní license. Why, may I ask?
KHARLAMOV: Just because I said so.
INSIDE THE CAR
GIDEON starts loosing his tolerance, and IGNAT wants to appease him.
IGNAT: Pay no attention to this jerk. Just keep going. We got our things to do.
ON THE STREET
GIDEON answers through the open car window aiming his speech mostly at KHARLAMOV.
GIDEON: No, I just wanna know why this fuckiní funny piece of shit stops us for fuckinínothing and wants us to show him my innocent ass or anything? I told you - anything can happen here, just fuckiní anything...
KHARLAMOV: May I finally see your driverís license? Besides, you werenít using the safety belts.
INSIDE THE CAR
IGNAT starts laughing hysterically. He pumps up the volume of the radio.
ON THE STREET
GIDEON pushes the door open, and angrily gets out of the car. TRACKING with him from a low angle as he goes round the car.
GIDEON: Lemme show you something, my redneck friend...
GIDEON opens the trunk.
PUSHING IN ON THE TRUNK as it opens in our faces, revealing a stash of black shiny weapons of all possible sorts and kinds.
Paying no attention to speeding cars and ambulances on the road and women with baby carriages passing by on the street, GIDEON proudly looks at KHARLAMOV who seems rather impressed.
GIDEON: So what the hellíve you been telling us about the safety belts?
He grabs a huge grenade-launcher from the heap of arms, and pushes it right into KHARLAMOVís face. THE CAMERA ARCS around them during the following.
GIDEON: Why - motherfucker - why donít you just call your fuckiní chief and ask him who the fuck you should stop on the streets, and who the fuck you shouldnít? Ya hear me, motherfucker?
KHARLAMOV: Yeah...
GIDEON lets him go and closes the trunk.
GIDEON: (Going to his seat) Good.
Knocked down KHARLAMOV feels faintness in his legs. They bend even more as he suddenly hears GIDEON shout at him again.
GIDEON: Hey, Kharlamov!
He throws the mighty arm to the clumsy cop who awkwardly catches it.
GIDEON: Keep it for your safety. Nobody knows what may happen next time you decide to get a bribe from someone for not using these fuckiní belts, huh?..
He slams the door shut, and the car leaves.
THE CAMERA SWEEPS AWAY from KHARLAMOV as he remains standing with his jaw dropped and a grand shiny tool lying in both his arms stretched helplessly. Music withdraws --
THE END OF TITLE SEQUENCE
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT/ LITTLE BROTHERíS ROOM - DAY
Music withdraws as one of the Potsí guests, MUFLON, steps over the radio and kicks it against the wall. He and his girlfriend named DASHA sneak into the room where the bodies of the unconscious boys still lie. Both teenagers are in full regalia - three nose rings, eight ear rings of metal grotesqueries and fat layers of facepaint on DASHA; ripped Megadeth t-shirt and long dirty hair on MUFLON.
ARON: (Voice-over) Those were our men. Our fresh and sincere 1267 FM radio was especially popular with the crooks and kids - both seemed to have lost the remains of their minds over the excess of freedom.
MUFLON pushes DASHA against the wall and begins to tap up a vein on her arm preparing her for a fix. There is a strong noise coming from the living room where the party goes on.
CUT TO:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT/ LIVING ROOM/ BEDROOM - DAY
The room is full with the teenagers - drinking vodka and Coke, smoking cigarettes and marijuana, dancing and screaming and fingering each other.
The host of the party, 16-year-old POTS stands in the middle of all this mess.
TRACKING with him as he moves to his parentsí bedroom talking directly into THE CAMERA.
POTS: I just love when my parents get the fuck outta here. I wish theyíd die if you wanna to know the truth. Yeah, you got it, folks. My wet dream is to become an owner of a dive. A real one, you know. And they donít even allow me to see my pals... (Turns away from the camera and screams to all) Hey fuckers you had enough?
ALL TEENAGERS: Fuck noooooo!
POTS: (Into the camera) They canít get enough! (To his friends) Whatthefuckmoredoyouwant?
ALL TEENAGERS: Fuck you!!!
Together with POTS we ENTER his parentsí bedroom where a bunch of wild teens are having fun with a drugged whore named MARGO. We see the scene from behind POTSí back, then THE CAMERA TILTS down as POTS drops his pants and joins the fun. Alex & Aronís show is blasting out of a stereo.
ALEX: (Over radio) Hey, folks, what we all have to understand now is that it is democracy out there, and democracy means that you can do whatever you want! Isnít it great? I love it!
CUT TO:
FLASHBACK - INT. ALEXíS AND ARONíS DORMROOM - EVENING
ALEX and ARON are browsing through a pile of newspapers.
ARON: (Voice-over) Alex was constantly searching for new stories to cover, and once in a while I tried to help him out.
CLOSEUP - Newspaperís headline reads TEENS KNOCKED OUT THE MOBSTERS
ARON: Hey, look at that!
ALEX: You found something? Whatís that?
ARON: (Handing him a paper) It - Itís a war, donít you see?
ALEX: Okay. Is it perverse enough?
ARON: I think, it is. And the best part is that it happened somewhere else, so we could talk about it.
CUT TO:
EXT. POTSí NEIGHBORHOOD - DAY
GIDEON parks his Toyota near the high residence building. He and IGNAT get out of the car and head to the entrance. WE FOLLOW them from behind, being able to see two young women SVETA and VLADA standing on a balcony and waving to the men. IGNAT, in response, shows them some indecent gesture.
Suddenly, the drugged up teen monster, DASHA, emerges before the men with all her nose and ear rings and bizarre vampire makeup flashing.
DASHA: Got a cigarette, you fuckers?
GIDEON: Go wash your face, monkey.
DASHA: Hey, Iím just asking you for a cigarette...
GIDEON: And weíre just telling you: fuck off, you breastless, bow-legged piece of fuckiní pussy.
He pushes her, she canít keep it straight and falls to the ground.
INSERT:
IGNATís POV - standing on a balcony SVETA is swinging her big breasts for him in a SLOW MOTION.
SUDDENLY
a cluster of other teens rise in front of the men, blocking the way to the building .
IGNAT: (To the teens) Is it Halloween today, or just a venereal asylum closed for a vacation?
MUFLON decides to speak for the others although his tongue refuses to.
MUFLON: Why did you smack our girlfriendís beautiful face? Sheís knocked up, did ya know that?
IGNAT: Congratulations. But she better have an abortion then. We donít need no other natural born syphilitics down here.
DASHA: (Arising from the ground) Not true. I ainít never got no claps, I only had gonorrhea twice.
GIDEON: Well, kids, I guess, the best your parents can do for you is just fuckiní kill you. Now, fuck off to all you genetic mutants again. We gotta go.
MUFLON: No, you gotta pay for what you said.
The men laugh and push the kids away to let themselves go. But MUFLON reaches and hits GIDEONís face. The latter reciprocates immediately. The other teens, including DASHA, start fighting as well. GIDEON kicks her painted face with his boot. IGNAT receives a punch in his crotch from another kid.
IGNAT: (Screams) Gideooooon! Where the hell is your gun?
GIDEON: (Fighting) Left in the car. We ainít got no need!
MUFLON falls after the GIDEONís mighty thrust, and GIDEON kicks his head for all heís worth. MUFLON lies motionless.
ON A BALCONY
SVETA and VLADA are applauding. The camera shifts to another balcony where a bunch of POTSí guests stand looking.
BENEATH BALCONIES
DASHA runs over there screaming to the kids upstairs.
DASHA: They killed him! They killed my husband! They killed Muflon! Go killíem! Go kill them fuckiní basrtards! They said Iím breastless but Iím not!!!
ON POTSí BALCONY
Skinny barechested TEEN with colored hair leans over rail, spits down and disappears among the others.
IN THE COURTYARD
Some YOUNG GUYS from a different crowd who were sitting on a bench drinking wine and suffering from lack of business, cross the courtyard running rapidly towards the fight. They carry the empty bottles of wine.
We SMASH CUT
To one of the bottles being slammed down IGNATĎ s head.
CUT WIDER
IGNAT screams and is bleeding. GIDEON tries to protect him taking hits from everywhere.
GIDEON: (To Ignat) Get the fuck in the car, Ignat, you hear me?!.. Now!..
ON A BALCONY
SVETA and VLADA look at each other in disbelief. DOUBLE-TAKE: ĎAre we really seeing what weíre seeing???í
CUT TO:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT/ BEDROOM - DAY
The kids push the door to the bedroom. They scream:"Címon! Címon! Some fuckers killed Muflon! Címon! Letís go!"
The teens in the bedroom promptly get up, and, in an extreme rush, start putting on some baggy clothes. The drugged up MARGO puts a POTSí fatherís military coat right on her naked body and runs away. Alex & Aronís show is heard in the background.
ALEX: (Over radio) ... at his friendís party a drunken captain of the Novokuznetsk city police decided to demonstrate his copís skills using a glass of water as a target for shooting, and putting it onto his buddyís head. As a result, the masterful copís friend was delivered to the hospital with a serious head injury.
CUT TO:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT BUILDING/ STAIRWAY - DAY
The kidsí many boots run downstairs with enormous thunder. As they run, the kids are jumping, hitting the ceiling and kicking the doors of the apartments of the absolutely innocent citizens.
ALEX: (Over radio) In Moscow a group of juveniles recently beat a forty-four year old police captain to death.
CUT TO:
INT. POTSí APARTMENT BUILDING / HALL - DAY
The doors of the elevator open, and itís crammed full with a bunch of teens - POTS among them - holding big metal sticks which they have been using for fights with each other. They run out of the elevator. Its floor shudders and shakes under their feet.
ALEX: (Over radio) ... a nine year-old youngster asked a sergeant of the Nakhodka police to demonstrate his handgun. Mistakenly thinking that there were no bullets in the gun, the sergeant set it straight at the kid and fulfilled his request.
CUT TO:
EXT. POTSí NEIGHBORHOOD - SERIES OF SCENES - SUNSET
SEVERAL ANGLES -
Like a flock of locusts, the kids are running towards the besieged mobsters struggling with drunk and drugged teens.
TRACKING with them as they run with POTS as a leader.
POTS: Címon, boys! My father was a major of the Soviet Army in the Afganistan war! He beat the shit out of seventy dushmans and an equal amount of fuckiní peaceful civilians! He was a helluva death machine!
Encouraged by POTS, a group of kids surrounds fallen IGNAT, who was trying to make it to the car, and start kicking him wildly. Beyond any control, wrapped in a military coat and wearing huge manís boots, MARGO does her best to kick IGNAT at his already bleeding head.
MARGO: Shityoufucker!!! Youíre fuckiní dead!!!
A POTS-leaded group encircles GIDEON beating him ruthlessly with the metal sticks.
POTS: You asswipe! Iíllbeatyourgoddamnedfuckingass!!
GIDEON: (Howls) You donít know who I am, you fuckiní mutants. Iíll kill you all!
POTS: You asswipe!
SWISH PAN TO:
THE CAR
The kids are crushing Toyota with their metal sticks.
IN THE FIGHTPLACE
DASHA bends over motionless IGNAT searching his pockets. Lying nearby MUFLON starts to awaken.
DASHA finally founds the cigarettes in IGNATĎs pockets.
DASHA: (To Muflon) I knew they gotíem!
IN THE COURTYARD
People from around the neighborhood have gathered into the semi-circles, happily witnessing these rather dramatic events. Some of them are cheering and jumping, some squeal.
Some accidental tourists pull up in their car and get out, leaving the doors wide open. Radio noise is heard from inside the car.
ON /INSIDE THE CAR
DASHA climbs up the carís roof just as the rest of the kids run off. The vehicle is already windowless and dented. She lights the cigarette and inhales. MUFLON joins her. WE PAN above them as they kiss passionately. THE CAMERA SWEEPS DOWN to reveal whatís going on below, where the drugged MARGO, POTS and some other kids are generously pouring gas on the carís seats.
In the process, MARGO grins to POTS.
MARGO: Hey Pots!
POTS: W-What?
MARGO: Ya got a nice father!
POTS: Yeah!
He grins back to her.
ON THE CARíS ROOF
Full of passion, DASHA drops her cigarette.
IN EXTREME CLOSE-UP SLOW MOTION the stub flies down through an opening on the carís roof.
ALEX: (Over radio) Thatís it, folks. I guess, thatís all we can do for you now. Join us tomorrow for more pervs, and until then onward and upward.
The car seats start to burn.
BLAST!! - Being full of weapons, the car explodes. Teen loversí bodies rise together with flames and metal, turning and flying down in a SLOW MOTION.
SMASH CUT to TEEN MONSTERSí faces as they tumble to the ground right before THE CAMERA.
It awakens IGNAT who rises his bleeding head.
IGNAT: (To Gideon) What was that?
GIDEON: (Still lying) Weíre in shit, palooka. Weíre in serious shit.
WE PULL BACK AND UP revealing the whole scene with breathless bodies on the ground and the burning car parked at a curb. Having forgotten about DASHA and MUFLON, the kids are jumping around the roasting car, yelling and whistling and striking warriorsí poses - all painted with orange light coming from sea horizon.
DISSOLVE TO:
Huge shining halo of the SUN, pulsing and pumping like a heart. The beat steadily picks up until it roars like a hundred motorcycle engines.
ARON: (Voice-over) We were lucky. We got paid for playing music and talking bullshit several hours a day.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT/ BEDROOM - NIGHT
ALEX is lying in bed with IOLANDA, a gorgeous blonde somewhat older than Alex..
ARON: (Voice-over) ... But Alex was much more luckier than I was. He dated women whom I will never even dare to approach.
IOLANDA: So, what is your name, cutie?
ALEX: What do you mean whatís my name?
IOLANDA: I forgot, darling, sorry.
ALEX: Are -- Are you kidding?
SLOWLY PULLING BACK as ALEX sits down in bed looking at IOLANDA intensely. She rises up, too, gets her Cosmopolitan, and starts thumbing it.
IOLANDA: No. I just decided I wanna know the name of a person whom Iíve just made love to.
ALEX: Weíve been dating for about two weeks! Hell, we even live together - and you--youíre telling me you donít know my name?
IOLANDA: But weíd hardly talked to each other for all this time. It was mostly sex, as you may remember.
ALEX: Yeah, but I sure know your name, donít I?
IOLANDA throws away the magazine.
IOLANDA: Hey, hey - Are you trying to oppress me or something? Listen, donít forget who you are.
ALEX: And who -- And who am I, in your wise opinion?
IOLANDA: Well, in terms of personality, so to speak, I guess, youíre nothing. Youíre just a dumb-ass boy who has lots of testosterone, and thatís what I need from you. Your hormones. They make me look more attractive to the other men.
Offended, ALEX begins to get up, searching for his pants. IOLANDA grabs a cosmetic mirror, and starts looking at herself, rearranging her messed up make-up.
IOLANDA: Listen, sweetie, what we deal with in your case is the tragedy of overestimating yourself. You think youíre bigger than you really are. Iím not talking about your endowment here. But do you think someone like me can really consider you marriage material or something?.. Donít you know that you have to be at least twice as older, balder, fatter, uglier man with lots of money, a prize-winning car, and a seaside cottage to fit a Russian woman like me? Of this list of virtues, youíve got only a prize-winning dick, which isnít bad for your age, honey! Lots of men donít have even that, believe me. Thatís why youíre allowed to fool around with a babe like me. And, please note, for free!
ALEX: I thought we were in love. Boy, am I just a stupid package of hormones!
She starts admiring her nostrils in the mirror. She uses her fingers with huge artificial nails as if they were scissors for a plastic surgery - she is definitely pondering this idea during the conversation.
IOLANDA: Donít make me laugh! "In love", it sounds kitchy... Hey, how long are you gonna hide your name?
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
Workers are hanging a huge poster to a building wall. It says something about the future mayorís elections and depicts one of the candidates - BARABASOV - a funny bald man with several metal teeth which he boldly reveals in a broad smile.
ARON: (Voice-over) Those were the days when the ugly-looking yet honest people could run for office and even win. But to take the riches from the former Communist oligarchs could only one crowd. The crooks.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
IGNAT and GIDEON are lying near a street curb, trying to hitchhike a car. No cars stop.
ARON: (Voice-over) Sooner or later these guys should have to understand that politics is just a much safer way to do their business.
IGNAT: (Moaning) They broke my legs. Where the hell is your cellular phone, for Chrissake?
GIDEON: (Grunting) They broke it, too.
IGNAT: Why the fuck ainít they know how tough we are? Do we fuckiní look like normal people?
GIDEON: Yes, we probably do. (He raises his head looking at BARABASOVís portrait trembling on the wind high above them) Look! If you were mayor or something, do you think weíd have ended up lying in shit trying to hitchhike a fucking car?
IGNAT looks at BARABASOV. His waving hand drops to the earth. Some carís wheels immediately run over it. IGNAT gasps and groans.
IGNAT: Fuck! Fuck!! Fuck!!!
IN A PAINFUL DELIRIUM,
He gazes angrily at BARABASOVís portrait again. He sees himself instead of the other man. THROUGH BLINKING DOUBLE EXPOSITIONS, we MATCH DISSOLVE to IGNATís portrait of the same kind as if he was one of the candidates, too.
ON THE PORTRAIT, IGNATís face is as it is now, all bloody and beaten to pulp YET widely smiling.
CUT TO REALITY
As the car which has just smashed IGNATís hand passes, then stops.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT/ BEDROOM - NIGHT
Almost dressed, ALEX stands near the other side of the bed.
IOLANDA: Oh, I had a guess that it should start with A, but simply wasnít sure.
ALEX: Do you know the name of your car?
IOLANDA: Yes, Toyota Corona. And what about it?
ALEX: Just curious.
IOLANDA: Common, Alex...
She throws the mirror on a bed.
ALEX: Glad you learned it. If you forget it again, just let me know.
IOLANDA: You canít punish me for not seeing you as a strong personality. Letís stop wasting our time, baby. Weíve been talking for about twenty minutes.
She laughs and stretches her arms towards him, inviting him to come back to bed.
ALEX: Listen, Iím not a moron. Iím hosting a radio show about perverts and all!
IOLANDA: Oh, Iím about to change my mind then.
CUT TO:
EXT. POTSí NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT
The courtyard of the residence building is now in complete darkness. There are no working streetlights which is typical for Russia. The only lighting comes from windows of the house. But from POTSí windows, loud music and wild screams are coming as well.
A small group of OLD LADIES are clustered round the bench in front of the entrance to building. One of them wrapped in a big floral kerchief is swearing at the kids for all present.
OLD LADY: I canít sleep because of these fuckiní bastards! Theyíre fucking, and drinking, and doing drugs, and playing this goddamn music all the fuckiní time!
CUT TO:
EXT. / INT. RV (MOVING) - NIGHT
In a huge modern Mitsubishi Pajero Jeep are the two Russian wide-bodies, VLAS and NIL, looking almost the same - buff, blond, crewcut, packed in leather jackets and huge golden chains. They are Gideonís boys. The music indicates that they are heading to do justice.
CUT TO:
EXT. POTSí NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT
VLAS and NIL park near the POTSí house and walk out of the RV. We see only their shiny leather-clad silhouettes in the rays of the car lights. Both are carrying the huge grenade-launchers. They look at the building quickly spotting the windows in which the kids continue their out-of-control party.
PUSHING IN on the OLD LADY as she screams to heaven, closer and closer, until her mouth FILLS THE FRAME.
OLD LADY: Shit, they live exactly above me, and I canít stand it nofuckingmore!!!! Iím gonna killíem! I want somebody to throw a bomb at this whole house, at this city, at all this goddamned country!!!!
CUT to the mobsters inserting grenades into the guns.
VLAS: (To himself) Youíll be fine, grandmother. Believe me.
IN A LOW ANGLE, VLAS and NIL raise their guns to the air.
HOLD ON the image of kidsí silhouettes horsing around behind the windows.
CLOSE ON OLD LADY anticipating something to come.
VLAS and NIL fire simultaniously.
EXTREME SLOW MOTION - Windows of POTSí and OLD LADYís apartments rain down the ground.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT/ BEDROOM - NIGHT
IOLANDA and ALEX are cuddling in bed when they hear a tremendous blast. The room starts shaking.
IOLANDA: Hey, I didnít expect such a blast!!!
ALEX stops for a while rising on one arm and trying to look at a semi-sheltered window. He jumps to his feet and races to the window.
IOLANDA: Where the hell are you to?
CUT TO:
EXT. POTSí NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT
VLAS and NIL fire again. Wreckage falls down. The swearing OLD LADIES run to the mobsters with their fists clenched. NIL pushes them away from VLAS, who fires again. Several floors of the apartment building are chopped off by his shots. Flame everywhere. The OLD LADIES have gone apeshit.
THE SCREEN FLASHES WHITE.
FADE IN:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT/ BATHROOM - NIGHT
ALEX is taking a bath. He sits in a tub speaking into his bare foot as if into the microphone.
ALEX: Well, I guess, this is finally the end of our shift. And I can tell you, if you were listening to all this bullshit, then youíre a real pervert.
FADE OUT
FADE IN:
INT. PROVINCEíS STATE BUILDING/OVAL OFFICE, SEVERAL MONTHS LATER - NIGHT
We fade up on CLOSE-UP of KONDRAT, the governor, delivering his opinion in an extremely rude tone.
KONDRAT: So, you fuckiní looser, you found a perfect twerp to loose to, huh? An old, bald and toothless military fuck, as ugly as all get out -- Wasnít it embarassing to loose to an asshole like that?
WE PULL BACK until we see that KONDRAT, the short man in a white shirt with folded sleeves, is seated across the table from THE MAN whose only bended back of head is visible. Itís IGNAT. He is somberly staring at the table surrounded by food and vodka as he listens to the governor.
TIGHT ON his left hand in a black glove as he carefully puts it near the untouched shot of vodka.
There are a lot of other drinking and eating officials in the room but IGNAT is the only one who is not eating.
ARTHUR BUKHARIN, Ignatís thirty-year-old advisor, is sitting next to him.
BUKHARIN: We couldnít do anything about it. Barabasov used the material heíd dug up in the Army --
INSERT:
A LOCAL TV NEWS STORY, sound out.
We PUSH IN ON THE TV SCREEN - looking exactly how he was described by Kondrat, BARABASOV is widely smiling surrounded by his many supporters.
BUKHARIN: (Off-screen) -- two hundred recruits died from hunger this year. He claimed he saved the others. Quite effective stuff. And after all, itís called democracy.
CUT TO CLOSE-UP of KONDRATíS FIST holding a huge chicken leg as it hits the table.
KONDRAT: Democracy my ass! I am the owner of this province, you hear me, you crazy ass fucker - I can do anything I want here, canít I?
He looks intently at BUKHARIN who begins to tremble.
SLOWLY PUSHING IN on KONDRAT as he drinks more vodka and resumes bitching.
KONDRAT: (To Bukharin at first, then to all present) I can fuck your wife, and sheís gonna like it better than a nice shot of vodka after borsch. I can feed my dogs on your motherís liver, and youíre gonna like it, too. Nice and easy. (Yells) I can kill the whole damned bunch of you!!! Because I am the governor. I am your boss!
While he is yelling, all the officials stop eating. BUKHARIN rolls his eyes in a sudden giddiness. He slips down KONDRATís feet, under the table. In a fit of epilepsy, he starts unconsciously rolling about on the floor and foaming at the mouth.
KONDRAT: I was elected by the people - wasnít I? - and you will eat my big ass, all of you! Thatís what the people want from you, you bunch of miserable cocksuckiní officials!!!
KONDRAT gives several hearty kicks to the convulsing epileptic on the floor. Then throws himself down his seat, somewhat tuckered.
KONDRAT: And thatís exactly what I call democracy. (Rises once again) I got other people in this shit. I got my partners. (Pointing at Ignat) I wanted this fuckiní sonuvabitch to be a mayor of this goddamn city. Why the fuck isnít he one?
KONDRATísubordinates are full of fear and eager to do whatever the governor want them to. Uniformed IVAN KOROBEIKIN, the police chief, stands at attention and demonstrates his loyalty by saluting the governor.
ARON: (Voice-over) The era of rampant corruption, bribery, kickbacks, payoffs and theft on Vladivostokís waterfront began.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
ALEX leisurely walks down the hilly street, notices the sign of a tiny Chinese restaraunt ęTURTLEíS SOUPĽ.
TRACKING with him as he crosses the road and enters the restaurant.
ARON: (Voice-over) But Alex, like me, was not that sure about what was going on in the city. Nor was he, in fact, interested.
CUT TO:
INT. CHINESE RESTAURANT - DAY
ALEX stands in front of the glass box filled with TURTLES - alive but ready to be cooked up. ALEX stares at them pitifully.
An old CHINESE MAN saunters to ALEX, ready to take his order.
CHINESE RESTAURANT OWNER: You wanna soup? Wanna soup? (Pointing at the turtles, inviting ALEX to choose one for a soup.) Which one? Which one?
ALEX: What?
The huge kitchen knife emerges from nowhere in the hands of CHINESE as he mimicks how he will kill a turtle for Alexís soup.
ALEX looks undecisively at the low-key activity taking place inside the box.
CHINESE energetically opens the box grabbing a BABY TURTLE with every intention to chop its head off.
ALEX: Noooooo! Please donít do it!
He rushes to rescue the BABY TURTLE snatching it out of CHINESEís hands.
CHINESE RESTAURANT OWNER: Why? Why? Whah you want?
ALEX: (holding a baby turtle on his palm) How much is it? Can I buy it alive?
CHINESE RESTAURANT OWNER: Alive? No soup? Maybe crazy?!
ALEX lifts a tiny turtle against his face. He and the BABY TURTLE stare at each other.
ALEX: Is it a boy or a girl?
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - DAY
Putting the BABY TURTLE into the pocket on his shirt, ALEX walks out of the restaurant.
ARON: (Voice-over) His dad was a fiddler in a restaurant, but Alex was wise enough not to follow in his looser fatherís old-fashioned footsteps.
ALEXís POV: a car stuck on the battered road. The engine revs as SEVERAL PUMPED UP MEN pant and sweat striving to drag it out..
ARON: (Voice-over) In his soul, wierd romantic ingenuity marched hand in hand with the perfect knowledge of what he wanted from life and an incredible zeal for achieving his mostly ridiculous goals.
ALEX whistles distracting the menís attention. While they look in the opposite direction, he races to the car and violently pushes it forward letting out a loud scream. VROOOM - and the car pools out. Jaws of the construction-workers-looking-alike men are dropped at the miracle.
ARON: (Voice-over) This quality of his nature made him both irritating and deserving of sympathy.
CUT TO:
INT. CITY HALL/CORRIDORS/MAYORíS RECEPTION - DAY
WE FOLLOW behind ZULYA IVANOVA, a very big lady dressed in a fancy pink suit. Lively radio music is playing in the background.
ALEX: (Over radio) Guess who?.. Yeah, youíre right. Itís lunch-time and here is sensational Alex and Aron show! Weíre running a contest on the best way to spot a pervert. Yeah folks, all kinds of perverts abound in our city, and... Do you think itís bad? At those times, I - I mean, at the time of communism, we seemed to not have any poor old perverts at all. Everybody was supposed to be a straight, forward-looking fighter for the crazy ideas of Lenin, Stalin, Gorbachov, you nameíem. But now times have changed; itís democracy down here...
IVANOVA approaches the counter of the SECRETARY - another huge Russian woman in poisonously yellow Ďofficialí suit.
IVANOVA: Iím Zulya Ivanova of the Committee of the Russian Soldiersí Mothers. I have urgent business with Mayor Barabasov.
SECRETARY: Iím sorry but thatís impossible. The mayor is ill!
LOW ANGLE SHOT
Of IVANOVA who immediately starts to cry.
IVANOVA: But I do know heís here. I need to see him so badly... Our sons are dying. Barabasov said he would protect them. We believed him, and what? I will burn myself right now, right before the city hall just to let people know what a bastard they made a mayor.
HIGH ANGLE SHOT
Of the sitting secretary - from IVANOVAís POINT OF VIEW. Pretty much embarassed, she grabs the receiver.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ BROADCASTING ROOM - DAY
ALEX and ARON are hosting the radio show. The BABY TURTLE is crawling around the table, near the microphone. The same radio music is playing.
ALEX: And here we go, somehow it turned out that we are just as insane as the rest of the world! We have people who eat their hats, their shoes, their glasses, even their feces, for Chrissake. We have people who make love to trees, to chikens, to cattle... And itís positively scrumptious, if you want to know the truth. We have to be happy about it! We are normal. Weíre like the rest of the world!
CUT TO:
INT. CITY HALL/MAYORíS OFFICE - DAY
LOW ANGLE SHOT
Of one of the perverts, IVANOVA, standing against the mayor, BARABASOV, and holding her purse in both hands. The big Chinese vase is located on the table near to IVANOVA.
HIGH ANGLE SHOT
Of BARABASOV - he is seated behind the desk surrounded by huge piles of paper and keeps coughing and sneezing all the time.
WE CUT BACK AND FORTH during the conversation.
IVANOVA: We need an apartment out of your mayorís funds to hide our sons who escape from the Army. And we need it now.
BARABASOV: What are you talking about? Iím gonna finish with all this vicious practice of giving apartments right and left just for flattering a city official in a right way. Apartments have to be bought, donít you think so? Thereís nothing I can do for you, sorry.
BARABASOV is sneezing one more time, and turns around to reach for his handkerchief. IVANOVA takes advantage of that and surreptitiously removes an envelope out of her purse.
SHOT FROM INSIDE THE VASE
As IVANOVAĎs hand puts it into the vase. Her fat hand is almost stuck in the narrow neck of the vase.
CLOSE ON IVANOVAĎs wild eyes as she scrambles to free her hand.
She ultimately succeeds, exactly by the time BARABASOV has put his used handkerchief aside.
IVANOVA: (Somewhat relieved) Youíre gonna regret about all this. I will complain to the President.
She turns around, opens the door, and loudly slams it in our faces.
CUT TO:
INT. GOVERNORíS BATH HOUSE - NIGHT
IGNAT and KONDRAT, all naked and drunk, are sweating in the Russian sauna, surrounded by huge switches of green birch twigs. The police chief, KOROBEIKIN, enters -- with the towel around his flabby waist, and still in his police cap. He salutes the big men.
KOROBEIKIN: Everything went just fine, gentlemen. Nothing could be more legal. After the victimís claim was registered...
CUT TO:
FLASHBACK - MONTAGE STYLE
As different telephone receivers in different offices are being picked up and hung back.
KOROBEIKIN: (Voice-over) ... which actually happened even before she went to the city hall...
CUT TO:
INT. ATTORNEY GENERALíS OFFICE - DAY
PYOTR ZHMUKHIN, a gray-haired fifty-eight year old Provinceís Attorney General in solid glasses, signs some papers and gives it to his SECRETARY to fax.
KOROBEIKIN: (Voice-over)) ... weíve got the Attorney Generalís order for searching the mayorís office. We just walked in on him...
CUT TO:
INT. MAYORíS OFFICE - NIGHT
The doors of BARABASOVís office are being rudely opened by a bunch of the police men along with several witnesses. Lt. SMIRNOFF shows BARABASOV AGís order to search his office, the latter wildly protests. SMIRNOFFís accomplices start to do as many unnecessary moves as possible - messing up papers, ruining furniture...
KOROBEIKIN: (Voice-over)... and found the bribe hidden deep inside the vase in his office.
Lt. SMIRNOFF self-confidently approaches the vase.
SHOT FROM INSIDE THE VASE
As he gets the envelope.
Lt. SMIRNOFF proudly presents content of the envelope to the witnesses.
A few 100 dollar bills fall on the floor.
WE DOLLY IN on BARABASOV who goes ballistic.
CUT TO:
INT. GOVERNORíS BATH HOUSE - NIGHT
KOROBEIKIN: We confronted him but he just kept saying it was planted. But the witnesses are as sure as hell.
IGNAT: Who the fuck are they?
KOROBEIKIN: Our people, receiving double salaries in both ourís and the mayorís offices...
KONDRAT: The former mayorís...
He grasps a BELL from somewhere and rings at it frantically as if he were a cranky gentleman from some Russian classics. Enters wrapped in a white sheet young woman MANYA, Kondratís secretary.
KONDRAT: You go tell these cocksucker hangers-on at my office to immediately contact the Presidentís fuckiní administration. We need to inform our fuckiní President that the mayor of the capital of our goddamn province is being indicted for accepting a fuckiní bribe. A person under investigation canít be a fuckiní mayor, can he? We need their reaction right now.
MANYA: Itís only 4 pm now in Moscow. They will be able to respond us in a few hours.
KONDRAT: Check out what a smart bitch I have! Now go tell the whores weíre coming to makeíem all busy, and bring us more vodka, please.
PUSHING IN ON KONDRATís hairy nostrils, as he speaks.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ BROADCASTING ROOM - DAWN
THE CAMERA IS A STRICT PERPENDICULAR to the table on which a sleepy but still pretty talkative ALEX is lying.
ALEX: Wow, time flies when youíre on the air. Weíre working overnight Ďcause we were asked by DJ Gloria who is responsible for the night shows but is having her first night of love right now. If youíre still listening to this crap, youíre a real pervert.
He is caressing the sleeping BABY TURTLEís back.
CUT TO:
INT. GOVERNORíS BATH HOUSE/ BEDROOM - DAWN
KONDRAT is sleeping between TWO WOMEN - two long-haired and long-legged blondes looking like twins. Suddenly, the phone rings. The TWIN SLUTS simultaniously get up. They start waking KONDRAT up, handing him the receiver.
KONDRAT: (Unconscious) Fuck off, you bitches. Iíll fuck you later... (Awakening) What? (Into telephone) Who the fuck is there? Who?! Oh, I beg your pardon, Mr.President. Yes. Yes. Itís a very tense situation.
ZOOM ON KONDRATís wild eyes, as he listens to the PRESIDENT (we can hear some roaring sounds), then PULL BACK revealing him and THE SLUTS.
KONDRAT: Yes. The cityís actually on the verge of the mass disturbances. People feel betrayed by a person in whom they believed so strongly. Yes, Mr.President. I think, it would be the wisest decision. Yes, temporarily. We have a candidate.
The TWIN SLUTS simultaniously rise their left legs up to the air, admiring their beauty.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ BROADCASTING ROOM - MORNING
Another shift of the radio boys, IGOR and MISHA, are patiently waiting for ALEX and ARON to finish.
ALEX: Well, another shift is going to replace me at the mike, but I donít wanna go. I wish you knew what a tremendous drug broadcasting can be.
MISHA is rolling his index finger at his temple, showing that ALEX has probably gone insane.
CUT TO:
EXT. / INT. MERCEDES (MOVING) - MORNING
A dazzling blond in her late 30s, INGA KOVARNAYA, is heading to her work place. She is the boss of the radiostation and has to constantly check it out even while driving.
ALEX: (Over radio) I know Iím still no good in this, but whatís the point? Itís democracy out there, and democracy means that you can talk whatever bullshit you want! Why the hell are you so shy, folks?.. Come on, go nuts with me, go crazy! Thereís no punishment for talking bullshit any more!!! Isnít it terrific? I love it!
By her appearance one can tell that, unlike Alex, INGA does not especially like it.
THE CAMERA PANS from INGA behind the windshield to the street, and the building of the city hall, and the crowd of people beneath it.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY HALL SQUARE - MORNING
Standing among the people, a TV reporter, ALEXANDER BORZOI narrates the story for a camera.
BORZOI: (To TV camera) As we just found out, Mayor Barabasov got temporarily fired from his office by the Decree of the President.
SHOT THROUGH A VIDEO CAMERA
BORZOI: He was indicted for extortion and bribery. Barabasov himself denied all the charges against him, and refused to leave his office.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ BROADCASTING ROOM - MORNING
ALEX is being hold by the arms by IGOR & MISHA trying to drag him out from behind the microphone.
ALEX: Well, I am about to get kicked out of here. But at the very least I want you to hear my grandmotherís favorite song.
Radio boss INGA KOVARNAYA emerges in the studio.
INGA: Hey, what the hell is going on here?
ALEX: (To Aron) Comeon!!
ARON efficiently puts on Alexís grandmotherís favorite CD.
A powerful Russian folk song performed by a huge choir starts playing.
CUT TO:
INT. CITY HALL/MAYORíS OFFICE/STAIRCASE - MORNING
The same song continues to play as the doors of the mayorís office get flung wide open, and BARABASOV is thrown away. He falls, then turns head-over-heels, then flies over the stairs, then falls again.
HOLD ON the incongruous image of the poor old man lying head-over-heels downstairs. He challenged the world of big money and dirty politics and fell in both - literal and metaphorical - senses.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/CORRIDORS - MORNING
The doors of the broadcasting room get opened, and ALEX is kicked out. He falls. The song reaches its crescendo, then abruptly ends.
ARON: (Voice-over) Somehow it turned out that Alexís trademark - a whirlpool of repetitive, pointless talking that no one seemed to be able to stop - could plunge us into a fair-sized problem.
SLOWLY PULLING BACK as ALEX lies on the floor.
Various objects surrounding him (walls, doors, flower in a pot, etc.) disappear as he lies, alone and motionless.
ARON: (Voice-over) Life was good, but we were ready for more.
CLOSE-UP ALEXís closed eyes.
DISSOLVE TO:
PULSING IMAGE OF THE SUN
CUT TO:
FLASHBACK - EXT. OCEAN FRONT - SIX YEARS EARLIER - DAY
The camera pans twelve year old ALEX as he walks along the shore. Suddenly he falls.
ARON: (Voice-over) Unlike my own dull and timid existence, Alex has always had a story. When he was twelve, he had survived a sunstroke. He fell asleep right on his way to the water to pee into the frothing surf.
DIRECT OVERHEAD SHOT as young ALEX lies asleep on the golden sand.
CUT TO:
INT. ALEXíS PARENTSí HOME/ BEDROOM - DAY
Alexís FATHER walks into the bedroom carring young ALEX on his hands. He carefully puts the sleeping kid on the bed.
ARON: (Voice-over) He slept for three months. Peacefully. Quiet.
Alexís MOTHER and FATHER sit by his bed looking at him heartily.
ARON: (Voice-over) He said he didnít want his parents to divorce. And he didnít let them to. They couldnít divorce when their only son fell asleep in the middle of swimming season, could they?
IMAGE OF THE SHINING SUN
ARON: (Voice-over) Alex told me he would do it again to escape death and other disappointments of life.
DISSOLVE TO:
IMAGE OF THE NIGHT SUN
CUT TO:
EXT. VLADIVOSTOK - NIGHT
Aerial shot swooping along the partly-lit city, coming down over the oily blackness of the Golden Horn Bay, then rising above the hilly side of the city.
ARON: (Voice-over) They say that from the pictures Vladivostok resembles San Fransisco. It really does: the hills, the bay, the woods... For more similarity, you will need only one thing - complete darkness. Thatís no problem here. At the very end of the twentieth century the city used to cut off electricity at 9 pm every single day. This way the resemblance is startling. But donít open your eyes in the morning or you will confirm the opposite.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/CORRIDORS
CLOSE-UP Grown up ALEX opens his eyes looking up right into the LENSE and scanning reality.
CUT TO:
EXT. / INT. KONDRATíS HOUSE - SUNSET
A gloved finger pushes the bellring. It is IGNATís.
He and GIDEON, both in expensive suits, stand on the porch of Kondratís house. GIDEON holds a large metal case they have brought as a gift.
Short, bald and belly-packed, KONDRAT opens the door. He looks as if he were distracted from preparations for a party. He has a white shirt and tie on, but still wears his stretched home pants and ... high-heeled womenís shoes.
KONDRAT: Hi boys! Come on in! Thanks for cominí to pick me up! (Pointing at the case in GIDEONís hand) Whatís that? I donít play violin.
He turns around and walks inside clinking resonantly with his high heels - CLUNK, CLUNK, CLUNK.
IGNAT and GIDEON look at each other, astonished.
IN THE LIVING ROOM
KONDRAT gets seated on a chair playfully placing one leg on another. He gestures with his hand inviting the guests to sit down on the sofa against him. GIDEON and IGNAT do.
KONDRAT: (To IGNAT) So what is it like being a mayor?
IGNAT: (Smiling stupidly) Well, Iím not sure yet.
KONDRAT: You will, my boy, I bet you will.
He smiles at IGNAT and, sitting cross-legged, swings his upper placed leg back and forth. IGNAT smiles back. GIDEON looks at him proudly.
Enters ROSALINDA, Kondratís wife, a tall woman in her mid-40s, clad in a bathrobe.
ROSALINDA: Kondrat, honey, you have to walk in them, not just sit around. Thatís the whole point. You understand me?
KONDRAT: Yes, momma! Oh yes!
He jumps to his feet and starts walking about.
ROSALINDA: Okay, thatís the way you do it.
She disappears paying no attention to Kondratís guests.
KONDRAT: (Stops walking and looks down at his feet) These are her best. But she keeps complaining they pinch. Yeah, these things happen... So Iím just helping her to makeíem alittle bit loose, you know... ĎCause we actually have the same foot size... If you think Iím funny, Iíll fuckiní kill yuh!
GIDEON and IGNAT canít allow themselves to crack up. They look like they would never think anything like that.
KONDRAT: Iím just kiddiní, guys, yuh know me... (Suddenly, to GIDEON) Howíre your ribs?
GIDEON: Fine, thank you. Look, we... I wanna thank you for being such a good friend to my friend and keeping your promises.
IGNAT: Yes.
He lifts the case from the floor, puts it on his laps and unlocks it.
The shiny supermodern machine gun is inside.
GIDEON: (Proudly) Itís the latest Kalashnikov. Itís so new they donít have this thing in the Army.
He stands up, handing the opened case to KONDRAT.
But he doesnít accept the gift. He pushes GIDEONís shoulder, making him sit back down. He bends over the seated men didactically swinging his fat finger before their noses.
KONDRAT: Now, youíre gonna understand how the big guys are doing business. No fights. No worries. No big fuckiní guns. No other gangs competiní to lay their dirty hands on your cake. No rare honest policemen. No nothiní. From now on - only pure clean paperwork. Buy yourself oversleeves. In the era of AIDS we have to fuck safely, donít we?
He starts walking again, taking measured steps to and fro like a lecturer.
KONDRAT: Listen, we got to take advantage of the crazy system where...
To make his monolog more hush-hush, KONDRAT sits down back on his chair, glancing around with great fealing of danger.
KONDRAT: Hey, if regions send their taxes and shit to Moscow, and then Moscow send them back to us, the situation is literally screaming to please take care of it, right?
GIDEON and IGNAT look at each other and nod in agreement. KONDRAT gets up, resuming his walking.
KONDRAT: No kidnappings. No killings. No car explosions.
GIDEON: (Stands up,) But hey, thatís all I can do!
KONDRAT: (Reacting) What? Thatís all you can do? Then go get yourself a pension. You got your ass blown up by fuckiní teens because nobody gives a fuck who you are. Could you for the first time in your life figure out a fuckiníway not to lose, huh?
Significantly piqued, GIDEON lights a cigarette.
KONDRAT: Look, the best-known, most respected gangsters in this country went to politics. You know why? Because itís money. Tons of it. What do you think theyíre doing up there - smashing their heads over the problem of famine in Ethiopia?.. You need an example, right? You know that crap we say to the newspapers regarding those power cuts, that we must do it, Ďcause we ainít got no oil, no shit, right?
IGNAT: Right.
KONDRAT: We got it.
IGNAT: (Stands up, too) We do?
KONDRAT: (Smiles contentedly) Yeah, weíre selliní it somewhere else. (To GIDEON) Now, Iím askiní you. How much people should you kill? How many joints heist to get such money? (To IGNAT) Except you gotta do it right, boy. You gotta have a team. (Points at GIDEON) No hoods like him, but accountants, officials, lawyers...
GIDEON: So you donít need me, is that right?
KONDRAT: (Taps GIDEONís shoulder) Weíll use your boys. One last time. (To IGNAT) But after we talk to the renegades, give him a place of City Commisioner or something.
ROSALINDA emerges in the room, dressed in a provocative dress.
ROSALINDA: Hey, are we going or what? I hope, itís gonna be a truly pompous, suave party. Otherwise, you better beware!
CUT TO:
SERIES OF SCENES
Next few scenes are pastiche of short sequences, with stomping music and a little dialogue. Soundtrack throughout all is disco of the 80ís. It gets louder as we cut to discotheque scenes.
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB - NIGHT
IGNAT, extremely excited, walks rapidly to the doors of the dance hall and opens them.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB/ DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
IGNAT opens the doors in our faces. Inside, the mob members are wildly celebrating his appointment to the office. Assorted hoods and hookers are dancing on a beaming discotheque floor under every killer light flashing. On stage, short KONDRAT, all excited and sweaty, surprisingly skillfully dances between TWO professional female DANCERS, much taller than him - the same TWO SLUTS from the earlier scene. All three of them wear feather boas of different colors. Kondratís wife, ROSALINDA, is flirting with the young club executive. In the background are six-foot blow-ups of IGNAT THE MAYOR.
CUT TO:
INT. DISPATCHERíS OFFICE - NIGHT
A leather-clad BRUNETTE GIRL gets seated at a console directing the activities of GIDEONís boys.
BRUNETTE: (Contacting guys, into the microphone) All right, guys, Iím Zebra, your guardian angel for tonight. Seems like itís gonna be a long night, huh?
BIG ELECTRONIC WATCH behind her says í22.30í.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
LOW ANGLE SHOT - in front of their parked RV, stand tall, buff, and crewcut VLAS and NIL. They raise their massive guns in full readiness to serve and walk out of frame.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB/ DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
CAMERA LOOKS STRAIGHT DOWN to a dance floor where KONDRAT and two dancers gyrate like mad with their boas stretched.
CUT TO:
INT. DISPATCHERíS OFFICE - NIGHT
ELECTRONIC WATCH says í23.12í.
CUT TO:
EXT. SUDAKíS HOUSE - NIGHT
VLAS and NILís RV parks near a nice house built in Gothic style with all kinds of metal-covered wings and a huge round antenna on the roof.
CUT TO:
INT. SUDAKíS HOUSE/ DINING ROOM - NIGHT
VLAS and NIL enter the dining room where a family of a middle-aged man, SUDAK, his younger WIFE, TWO early teenage KIDS and big short MOTHER-IN-LAW -- ALL OVERWEIGHT -- are seated at the table crammed with an abundance of food. All eat hungrily.
PUSHING IN on SUDAK as he raises his head from his plate to see the TWO GUYS having entered, and freezes numb with his mouth stuffed. Heís trying to mumble something to no avail.
Music stops as we CUT to NILís POV -
NIL sees grunting SUDAK as if THROUGH THE EYEPIECE MONITOR OF A VIDEO CAMCORDER or a certain computer display, with some TECHNICAL NOISE but with NO SOUND since NIL is deaf-mute.
ON THE ĎMONITORí
Some figures and signs run being understood only by NIL as they help him to read sense of unlistenable reality.
Multiple CU of SUDAKís mouth on a NILís virtual display. Then, a round red sign flashes several times letting us know that NIL has understood what SUDAK was Ďtalkingí about.
Music resumes and sound in: VLAS and NIL start shooting. Five fat bodies softly drop to the floor.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB/ DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
The doors to a dancing hall are being opened once again, as IGNAT is being carried down from a restroom by a bunch of supporters, ARTHUR BUKHARIN among them. As they enter the hall, IGNAT starts vomiting again.
CUT TO:
INT. DISPATCHERíS OFFICE - NIGHT
Dispatcher ZEBRAís lips get near the mike.
ZEBRA: Okay, boys. Now, move your muscular asses to Partisansí Avenue. Our Korean friend will be waiting for you there. And donít forget all the various techniques weíre providing with our services.
ELECTRONIC WATCH says í00.45í.
CUT TO:
INT. CHON VAN BUMíS APARTMENT - NIGHT
TIGHT ON VLASís gloved hands grabing another manís bathrobe.
THE CAMERA SWISH TILTS BACK revealing narrow eyes of a KOREAN MAN which are stretched to the limits that nature allows - from fear.
A pillow comes in and covers the Koreanís face.
Sound out: We see this one shot once more - from NILís electronic POV.
Sound in as THE CAMERA SWISH TILTS BACK to a WIDE SHOT - huge VLAS holds a little South Korean businessman CHON VAN BUM while NIL is choking him with the pillow.
The little yellow man is trying hard but unsuccessfully to get out of the bear hug of the Russian men. He utters all the appropriate sounds, and soon falls breathless.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB / DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
Drunk and sweaty IGNAT is thrashing and jigging to the music, together with an artificial blonde in gaudy outfits, NATASHA. Their corny moves identify them as absolute rednecks.
CUT TO:
INT. DISPATCHERíS OFFICE - NIGHT
ELECTRONIC WATCH says í02.37í.
CUT TO:
INT. APARTMENT BUILDING HALL/ STAIRWAY - NIGHT
Sound out: Camera is NILíS PERSPECTIVE, as he runs chasing a MAN in extremely dark and dirty hall and stairway. Light flashes as a huge axe comes in frame and lowers on a MANís head. Blood spurts on NILís virtual display as if on a camera. Bloody stain juxtaposes to a round red sign that flashes several times.
Sound in.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB/ DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
Tired, KONDRAT falls into the arms of his dance-mates.
CUT TO:
INT. DISPATCHERíS OFFICE - NIGHT
ZEBRA intensely looks at a computer monitor, then turns to the mike.
ZEBRA: Weíve got urgent business on Revolution Street, 23-75. Itís off your schedule, guys, so youíll be paid extra money. Thanks.
ELECTRONIC WATCH says í03.55í.
CUT TO:
INT. MAGOMEDíS OFFICE - NIGHT
TIGHT ON a small orange enema which NIL holds in one of his gloved hands. He methodically pumps in it a liquid from a big cut-glass bottle.
Sound out: The same shot only THROUGH THE VIRTUAL EYES OF NIL with all kinds of diagrams and tables running on the margins.
Sound in as CAMERA SWISH PANS to MAGOMED - a mean and dirty Chechen and fair-sized psycho trying to get free from VLASí hugs.
MAGOMED: Iíll leave! I swear! I always keep my promises! Itís a tradition of all oriental people!!
NIL shoots a spurt out of the enema directly in the MAGOMEDĎs face.
Sound out: NILís POV - spurting orange enema, foreground, and frightened MAGOMEDĎs face on a background THROUGH HIS VIRTUAL EYES.
Sound in: NIL lights a cigarette, and shoves it into MAGOMEDís mouth.
MAGOMEDĎs face starts to burn. Unbearable screams by the Chechen. VLAS finally lets him go, as NIL grabs the gun and shoots MAGOMED without mercy.
CUT TO:
INT. LUNATIC NIGHT CLUB/ DANCE FLOOR - NIGHT
A mean, unshaved and big-nosed Armenian face of a thug named HACHIK sharply turns towards the camera and screams. Camera then SWISH FOLLOWS the movement of his hand, as he throws the knives into the poster of BARABASOV - like the one which Gideon and Ignat saw while hitching a ride.
Drunk and drugged public is cheering each time...
...a row of the knives lays down BARABASOVís face.
In full bedlam, an exploding discotheque flash fills the screen WHITE.
FADE IN:
INT. RADIOSTATION/CORRIDORS - NEXT DAY - MORNING
ALEX and ARON are being escorted to the office of the radio boss INGA KOVARNAYA by the two hard-looking GUARDS in identical uniforms.
ARON: (Voice-over) As a matter of fact, I believe that you can judge how democratic a society is by considering how it treats its nonsense tellers.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ INGA KOVARNAYAíS OFFICE - MORNING
Entering, ALEX and ARON observe the fancy interior of their directorís office, which is stylishly European but bear a slight Russian bearís touch. They look around finding nobody inside and get seated on the chairs against the massive wooden table which displays absolutely no sights of any intellectual activity of its owner. Next to the table, there is a locked door leading apparently to another room.
ARON: (Voice-over) Under Stalin, you could end up in jail only for hearing a humorous anecdote containing a slight political innuendo. People who were ill-fated enough to accidentally wrap some herrings in a newspaper containing Stalinís portrait might end up against a firing squad.
CLANG! - The wooden door to the office gets thrown opened as glamorous, leather-clad blonde INGA KOVARNAYA walks in on her high heels with the posture of an experienced Nazi officer.
INGA: If you would rise, gentlemen.
The boys stand up. Their harsh yet sexy boss strikes a pause in front of the coffiin-like table.
ARON: (Voice-over) We thought our country was at the verge of becoming democratic one, and there was no punishment for talking nonsense any more. Boy, were we wrong!
INGA: On behalf of myself and the directorsí board... (She takes her stylish sunglasses off, putting them on the table) ... it is my pleasure to announce... that according to the new airing schedule just approved by the fouding fathers of our company...
While talking, she starts to undress, consecutively removing gloves...
... elegantly taking off her leather jacket...
... unzipping her blouse and skirt...
... and revealing a swimming suit under her clothes.
PUSHING IN on the boys who are still standing, stare at her, shocked.
. INGA: ... you are no longer working on our prime-time show on account your excessive enthusiasm and unappropriate thematic elements and word usage.
In swimming suit, INGA walks to the closed door behind the table and unlocks it with the key.
KLUNK! - The door opens revealing a SWIMMING POOL inside.
TRACKING with her as she heads inside on her high heels.
INGA: We thought you might benefit from using night time for your show. No politics, no underground music, no vocabulary not understood by the overwhelming majority of our listeners.
SPLASH! - She dives into the water right in her shoes.
INGA: (Appearing on the surface and spitting out the water) Oh! Thatís pretty divine down here!
She throws her wet shoes almost in the boysí faces. They tumble to the floor.
INGA: (Smiles artificially to the boys) Yes! If you do not agree, please consider yourself fired.
KOVARNAYA dives in again. She swims underwater, thoroughly enjoying herself.
TIGHT ON the faces of the astonished and humiliated boys.
ARON: (Voice-over) Everybody knew that she had two her lovers on the directorsí board. The old communist director of the State TV Channel, and the young mafiaís underboss, they made her ass practically unsinkable.
CUT TO:
EXT. VLADIVOSTOK - DAY
SMASH CUT to a monster Russian helicopter BLACK SHARK thundering above the city. PAN 180 degrees as it roars past.
AERIAL SHOT coming down out of the clouds over the beautiful - from such height - city.
ARON: (Voice-over) You canít believe this city! Itís filthy. Trash everywhere, and dust, and dirt. Seems like filth was embedded from day one.
CUT TO:
INT. BLACK SHARK - DAY
IGNAT, NATASHA, ARTHUR BUKHARIN and TV reporter ALEXANDER BORZOI with his CAMERAMAN are aboard.
Leaning forward almost out of window, IGNAT proudly demonstrates NATASHA his new possessions.
No words can be heard because of the helicopterís roaring.
CUT TO:
EXT. WATERFRONT - DAY
Itís a beautiful October day.
With brakes squealing, IOLANDA turns her car sharply into the parking spot.
ARON: (Voice-over) Go to the waterfront, there is a small beach there.
She and ALEX run to the sea. People are sitting on benches, some walking dogs. They pay no attention to garbage being scattered around.
Nor do IOLANDA and ALEX. They kiss. We CRANE UP to reveal the beach.
ARON: (Voice-over) You expected it to be like a beach anywhere you have been before? You were wrong. Everywhere you go there is trash and stench around.
IOLANDA and ALEX donít notice anything because:
    they are used to all that;
    they are into each other.
CUT TO:
EXT. PARK - DAY
The weather is windy. ARON walks back to his dorm carring a plastic bag from the groceries.
ARON: (Voice-over) Be careful, scraps of garbage are strewn by the wind!
He lifts the bag against his face defending himself from attack of the storm. Now he can see nothing. Just like a few other people, plodding up and down the hilly sidewalk, eyes-downcast.
ARON: (Voice-over) Donít look left. Dumps just beside the residences are teeming with rats. Donít look right. Abandoned by their masters, sick homeless cats and dogs are waiting for death from the forthcoming winter.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT HOUSE/ ELEVATOR - NIGHT
ALEX, holding a white rose, enters an elevator. The doors shut behind him
ARON: (Voice-over) Donít use elevators.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS NEIGHBORHOOD - NIGHT
The lights in the whole neighborhood are being turned off. It is now in complete darkness.
CUT TO:
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT HOUSE/ ELEVATOR - NIGHT
The elevator cabin shudders, then stops.
ALEX, lighting his lighter, gives the elevatorís doors some well-deserved kicks. Then, sighing, squats down.
ARON: (Voice-over) You can be stuck in one and then all you will have to do is smell piss for hours until the light comes back.
ALEX buries his nose into the flower.
CUT TO:
EXT. DOWNTOWN - NIGHT
VLAS and NILís RV jumps on unbelivable Russian roads.
ARON: (Voice-over) Donít drive at night, neither. The roads here are worse than any backroads country gravel road you have ever seen.
CUT TO:
INT. RV (MOVING) - NIGHT
VLAS drives the car, and NIL is holding a bottle with burning liquid. Every time the car jumps, the bottle in NILís hands jumps too.
ALEX: (Over radio) The mind boggles at the many creative uses of such a plain - at the first sight - plant as dill. Use it regularly in your daily meals. It will add to your prestige. Stay tuned because this is Alex and Aron and their little turtle daughter Fatima...
ARON: (Voice-over) We were living in this city, too. We tried to ignore its filth with our lively, probing intelligence, our wide-ranging curiosity, and mordant humor. But our guts belonged in it.
THROUGH NILíS POV - the content of the bottle foams and fizzes.
VLAS: (To NIL) What the fuck did ya take it back for? You had to use it all till the last drop on this fuckin Chinese. Wanna blast our asses to hell, huh?
For understandable reasons, NIL doesnít answer. Instead, he lifts the bottle and studies it...
... THROUGH HIS VIRTUAL DISPLAY.
CUT TO:
EXT. DOWNTOWN - NIGHT
RV falls into one of the holes on the unlighted road.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREET - NIGHT
ALEX and ARON are rollerblading home after their night shift. Abscence of working street lights makes the moon the only source of lighting. It gives its artificial blue light, which is being reflected by many puddles under the feet of the boys.
ARON: ... talking about bullshit, our show is bullshit.
ALEX: Whyís that?
ARON: You know. All those perverts... Itís immature.
ALEX: Check out this helluva mature guy who hardly dated anybody except his right hand!
ARON: You know Iím right, thatís why youíre abusing me.
ALEX: Yeah, youíre right like your right hand. Iím about to interview a woman who found her professor husbandís chopped off head boiling in a borsch bowl, and youíre saying itís immature?
ARON: Hey, itís gonna impress people only because they havenít had any access to the world of broader ideas. Very soon theyíll want to hear very different things.
ALEX: Things like what?
ARON: Like whatís going on. Nobody understands that. Look around. Things changed. Everything changed - people, attitudes, power, money, even streetlights. They donít work anymore. Why? Why pretend we donít notice it? Why pretend we donít notice shit lying right on our streets? Did you know weíre about the only country in the world where shit is lying downtown. Why donít we talk about that?
CUT TO:
INT. RV (MOVING)/ EXT. DOWNTOWN - NIGHT
VLAS: (To NIL) Hey, Iím talking to you! Youíre storing this shit, all right. But I have a woman at home, and sheís waiting for me, and I have to fuck her at least twice, Ďcause she canít sleep without that. You hear me, you deaf shitbag, sonuvafuckinbitch, donít ya?
NILís Ďelectronicí mind is trying to understand sense of this emotional statement, but to no avail.
NIL looks at VLAS angrily, then raises and lifts RVís hatch.
We see him prodruding out of the moving RV from outside. NIL swings back his arm with the bottle in it.
VLAS: (To NIL) Hey, hey, what the fuck are you doing? You moron, itís downtown, for fuckís sake!!!!
The RV nears the Memorial of the Fighters for the Power of the Soviets. NIL throws the bottle like it had been done by the heros of World War II.
The bottle hits the right spot as the huge memorial explodes illuminating the gloomy night with joyful flash. Debris of the stony leviathan fall down.
IN RV
VLAS observes the battle field for a beat, then turns back to NIL.
VLAS: On the other hand, this piece of shit needed to be blown up.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY CROSSROADS - NIGHT
ALEX and ARON reach the point where their paths part. Here they get illuminated by a huge blast. ARON ducks intuitively while ALEX looks fearlessly towards the thundering glow on the horizon. He turns his head to ARON.
ALEX: So you suggest that we have to turn to real life?
ARON: Yeah, here we donít need fiction.
ALEX: We canít discuss politics and underground, but streetlights are neither one, right?
ARON: Itís just real life.
ALEX: Two young unruly truth-tellers. Maybe itíll make us famous and rich?.. But first I have to do this show with the poor widow. I promised her to.
He hi-fives ARON.
ARON: Are you coming back to the dorm any time soon?
ALEX: Naah, Ďtill Iím loved by a gorgeous girl.
ARON: Oh-oh, give my best to her then.
ALEX: And you give my best to your right hand.
They rollerskate in different directions.
CUT TO:
EXT. MOB MEETING PLACE - NIGHT
CAMERA LOOKS STRAIGHT DOWN on a dimly lit waste ground somewhere outside the city. The light is coming from the cars being parked here. The amount of cars increases, and so does the intensity of the light.
KONDRAT is greeting the men as they leave their cars. Immaculately dressed IGNAT stands nearby nervously smoking.
All of the arriving men are solid old-timers, with the youngest one, BORIS PRIMAKOV, of fifty-five years old. He is greeted by KONDRAT.
KONDRAT: Hey, Boris, how are you? How was your ride?
CAMERA PANS around the place stopping on some of the guys as they meet each other, shake hands, etc.
On YEGOR KUZMIN and IVAN DURA, two gray-haired guys around seventy.
DURA: (To Kuzmin) Did you ever see that guy <IGNAT>?
KUZMIN: No. And you?
DURA: No. Who the hell is he?
IGNAT walks toward KONDRAT slipping him to the side.
IGNAT: Who the hell are all these old greaseballs?
KONDRAT: Those are definitely the most important guys on this side of the fuckiní planet. You heard of AssGooMan, you novice in big politics?
IGNAT: Fuck no.
KONDRAT: Association of Goodsí Manufacturers. All of them were fuckiní communist leaders, party secretaries, directors of huge fuckiní factories and shit like that.
CAMERA MOVES past GERMAN CHOMSKY, NIKOLAI GOMORRA, MAXIM ZILBERMAN, STEPAN PROBKA and several other men, past YEGOR KUZMIIN and IVAN DURA - -
- - To LEO BURBON, mid-sixties, who is seated on a backseat of his superhuge LAND CRUISER, much above the crowd. We see him through the car window, but as camera reaches his close-up, he lowers it down. His red flashy face is unpenetrable.
KONDRAT: (Off-screen) See this old prick still seated in his car? Itís Leo Burbon. He was a fuckiní secretary of the party committee of the liquor plant, hugest in this fuckiní hemisphere. Now heís practically the owner of all vodka being produced down here. Holds fifty one percent of all fuckiní stock. No wonder he was elected the chairman of the AssGooMan fuckiní directorsí board.
Freeze frame on LEO BURBON
It MORPHS to a photograph.
CAMERA PULLS BACK to reveal IOLANDA next to her father, LEO BURBON...
TRANSITION
INT. IOLANDAíS APARTMENT/ BEDROOM - NIGHT
...WE PULL BACK MORE revealing real IOLANDA moaning in embraces of tireless ALEX under the family picture.
CUT TO:
EXT. MOB MEETING PLACE - NIGHT
We return to the mob meeting. On a backseat of LEO BURBONís car, we see GALINA USATAYAís head being raised from BURBONís knees. She sits next to him rearranging the huge construction of hair she wears on her head. It was fashionable among the party females back at the time of her communist youth. SWISH PAN to IGNAT and KONDRAT.
IGNAT: Whoís that old bimbo just finished sucking him off?
KONDRAT: (Respectfully) Galina Usataya, the chairman of Fishermenís Bank. The only female member of the association.
IGNAT: Does she do it to all men?
KONDRAT: (Laughs) No, no, sheís just very much in love with old Leo. They met here and loved each other like it happens to all us people.
Another DIRECT OVERHEAD SHOT reveals about forty cars arrived. Their headlights produce a bright luminescence in the blackness of the night. The cars continue to arrive and park forming a circle with some empty space in the middle.
An Orthodox minister, young and handsome FATHER FYODOR, gets out of his car and is greeted by senile NIK GOMORRA.
GOMORRA: Holy shit, Reverend!
FATHER FYODOR: Good to see you, my son. Havenít seen you in church for a long time.
GIDEON pulls up in his car and gets out. He has brought the THREE BEST BARTENDERS IN TOWN to serve at the party. They immediately start to unpack many cases of champagne and vodka.
GIDEON looks like a best man at his best friendís wedding. He spots IGNAT in the crowd and, letting out a piercing shriek of triumph, scurries to congratulate him. They greet each other like only people who were best friends since their childhood can. GIDEON jumps and screams letting all the joy overflowing him to get out. He hugs IGNAT violently, dishevels him, playfully pulls both his cheeks, slams his back and neck and finishes the escapade by kissing IGNAT the Russian way, that is thrice - consecutively on both his cheeks and mouth.
ON TO OLD BOSSES
wondering at deep-throating between two men.
LEO BURBON finally decides to descend to the crowd. He gets out of the car being joined by GALINA USATAYA. Other members of the club immediately gather around them.
CAMERA SWISH TILTS to IGNAT, GIDEON and KONDRAT.
IGNAT: (To KONDRAT) How come he <LEO BURBON> holds fifty one percent of all fuckiní stock?
KONDRAT: He didnít pay his workers to buy stock. Besides, he had his old pal Semyon Zubov working as the head of the Property Commission in the former administration. See this fat fuck?
On to MAXIM ZILBERMAN performing indecent gesture, and SEMYON ZUBOV laughing like a horse at a ZILBERMANís anecdote.
IGNAT: Yeah.
TIGHT ON SEMYON ZUBOV, a bald sixty-one-year-old underboss with a set of golden teeth exposed in a big predatory smile.
KONDRAT: (Low, to IGNAT) You remember the time when our fuckiní government tried to start capitalism here in Russia again?
IGNAT: Uh-huh.
KONDRAT: He was taking care of the closed auctions where the stock of the major enterprises was being sold -only to the directors of those fuckiní plants, other AssGooMan guys and their juiced-in relatives. I mean, nobody even knew...
Slowly PUSHING IN on IGNAT and GIDEON as they listen to KONDRAT.
GIDEON shakes his head in disbelief.
GIDEON: Shit!
KONDRAT: No independent entrepreneurs could stick their fuckiní noses to those auctions. These guys even determined the prices. Zubovís fuckiní teen daughter bought herself the best downtown hotel for about twenty thousand fuckiní bucks, can you imagine that?
Meanwhile, GALINA USATAYA is delivering a speech toward the men around her. She holds a champagne glass in her one hand and a nice thatch of dill in another. The men drink vodka and eat sandwiches.
USATAYA: I just love dill! I heard an interesting radio show on it just a coupla days ago. Oh, I put dill in nearly every salad I made. I mean, nothing can be more healthy than fresh chopped dill. I liberally sprinkle it over, say, sliced cucumbers and tomatoes, steaks, salmon, eggs, patties... Even a beet salad with cheese and mayo. Even boiled potatoes! Iím just a huge fan of dill. Iíd have put it in my coffee if I had half a chance.
We are back to IGNAT and KONDRAT.
IGNAT: Iím impressed.
KONDRAT: Powerful people. They made me who I am. And youíre gonna kneel down for them and take an oath of loyalty.
IGNAT: Iím gonna do what?
KONDRAT: You fuckiní heard me. Youíre gonna kneel down for them and take an oath of fuckiní loyalty. Itís a part of the procedure.
IGNAT: Why the fuck should I do this shit? Did the previous mayor follow this fuckiní procedure?
KONDRAT: No. No, he didnít. Thatís why heís feeding fishies with his stinkiní corpse deep down the ocean right fuckiní now. (Off-screen) Those people can be real sweethearts, believe me.
INSERT:
EXT. SEAFLOOR / UNDERWATER, BACK IN TIME - DAY
Drowned BARABASOVís body reaches the bottom of the sea and gets anchored by an impressive stone hanging on his neck on a rope. Rays of sun reveal his childish eyes and wide open mouth. Various species of fish, including very exotic ones, enter the frame as Mayorís body is swinging softly on a rope. Full of curiousity, they begin to sniff him. TRACKING WITH numerous small fish as they enter the DARK ABYSS of his mouth.
FADE IN:
EXT. MOB MEETING PLACE - NIGHT
IN A LOW ANGLE, WE PAN on the communists-turned-capitalistsí stern faces ready to listen to IGNATís oath of loyalty.
IGNAT is standing on his knees semi-encircled by the bosses under the lights of their cars.
KONDRAT and GIDEON are out of focus not far behind IGNAT.
GALINA USATAYA reads the text of an oath from a big red folder with gilden letters on it.
GALINA USATAYA: I, Ignat Mamuilo, solemnly swear that as a new mayor I will do my best for prosperity of the city, for happiness of all people living in it, and for resurrection of our great country, Russia.
IGNAT: Yes... I, Ignat Mamuilo, solemnly swear that as a new mayor I will do my best for prosperity of the city, for happiness of all people...
Sound of someone farts.
CLOSE ON LEO BURBONís unpenetrable face. GALINA USATAYA gives him a loving gaze.
IGNAT is a liittle distracted of his litany.
IGNAT: ... and ... and ... for resurrection... for resurrection of fuckiní what?
KONDRAT kicks IGNATís ass as a signal of the not appropriate word usage.
GALINA USATAYA squints at IGNAT as if she has never encountered a thing more immoral than his swearing.
GALINA USATAYA: Of our great country Russia, young man.
IGNAT: Oh yes. Of our great country, Russia, thatís right. May we just pretend I already said it? (He meets the steel gaze of USATAYA) Okay, okay. Just read shorter sentences, will ya? I have a bad memory after yesterdayís boozing.
CUT TO:
EXT. MOB MEETING PLACE, A FEW MINUTES LATER - NIGHT
PULL BACK from the huge golden cross swinging left and right on equally thick golden chain as FATHER FYODOR is blessing IGNAT and spraying him with sacred water.
GALINA USATAYA: If I ever break this oath, let the members of AssGooMan be the only judges of me.
PUSHING IN ON the predatory face of USATAYA as she speaks.
FATHER FYODOR: In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit... Amen... Amen...
FATHER FYODORís hand comes into THE FRAME, as its owner makes IGNAT kiss the cross. Smiling KONDRAT and GIDEON move closer to witness his moment of glory.
CLOSE ON LEO BURBON
IGNAT: (Low to KONDRAT while kissing the cross) Why the hell does he fart all the time?
KONDRAT: (Low) He wants all us to know whoís the boss here.
GIDEON: We have to stop this fool farting around here and messing our triumphs, donít we?
FATHER FYODOR: So help you God. Now, raise to your feet, son, and be the mayor of our most beloved city.
CUT TO:
INT. RADIOSTATION/ BROADCASTING ROOM - NIGHT
ALEX interviews the much-awaited MINA POTAPOVA, a middle-aged, average-looking woman of an intellectual occupation. They sit against each other at the table on which baby turtle FATIMA is crawling. ALEX plays a role of a serious journalist while POTAPOVAís answers are solid and thorough.
ALEX: Well, I understand that for people who were regarded as the cream of the Russian intellectual crop, promiscuity and heavy drinking are among the most natural things in the world... But how could it possibly be that they drunk themselves to such condition when they wanted to kill somebody?
MINA: (As if lecturing) Well, what you have to understand is that they drunk very bad vodkas, maybe Chinese counterfeits or something... They celebrated my husbandís student who finally got Ph.D in biology, so they really needed a lot of cheap vodka. And that kind of vodka, it makes you gloomy, you know, it pushes you towards doing certain nasty things.
ALEX: Now my listeners are interested to know how come that such a highly intellectual person as your husband, professor Potapov, had volunteered to be killed by his students?
MINA: (Neutral) Well, it started like a game. They wanted to kill somebody as a result of three-day non-stop drinking, alright? But they were too yellow to go out and kill somebody on the street to spare themselves of these gloomy emotions. So they decided to kill somebody in their own tight circle. They drew lots, and my husband just lost!
ALEX: So it was a fair game, thatís what you say?
MINA: Yeah, but what I could never understand was why did they put his chopped off head into the borsch bowl and started to cook it up?
ALEX: Maybe they were hungry?
MINA: (Shrugs her shoulders) I donít know!
ALEX: Well, thank you, Mina. (To the listeners) So what do you think? Iím talking to you, all my three listeners glued to their radios at such late-late-late time. Why did they do that? And what can you do to shake our co-host, little turtle Fatima, out of her shell? Send us your letters with comments to box 51723 --
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY CROSSROADS - DAWN
ALEX and ARON walk back home almost IN SILHOUETTE, the city skyline in the background. No one else is around.
ALEX: You know what the best part of working at night is? Nobodyís gonna know what weíre doing. Thereís nobody here to hear us. Everybodyís sleeping.
ARON: Then what the hell are we doing that for?
ALEX shrugs his shoulders and laughs.

<TO BE CONTUNUED>