PLASTIC MAN

Argon laughs.

                         ARGON

          A watch works, Mr. Sim.  A

          bureaucrat works.  What transpired

          here cannot be measured by the word

          'work.'

His chest swells, as if he were posing down for Mr.

Universe.

                         ARGON

          What you see before you is the

          culmination of evolution.  The

          realization of the one driving

          desire at the heart of all great

          human endeavors; the desire for

          immortality!  The polymerization of

          human flesh is no mere molecular

          transmutation, no simple scientific

          procedure; it is nothing short of a

          miracle!  A miracle that marks the

          ascension of man from the finite to

          the infinite!  From the transient to

          the everlasting!

His perfect white teeth high-beam the room.  Poppy stares,

adulation oozing from every pore.

                         POPPY

          Oh, Icky...

Argon kisses her, hard.

                         SIM

          Look, I don't mean to rain on

          everyone's ascension here, but we

          got a little problem.

                         ARGON

          Speak.

                         SIM

          Dr. Bright has escaped.

Argon breathes deep, controlling his temper.

                         ARGON

          If you let her reach those reporters

          outside the main gate, Mr. Sim --

His hand whip-wraps around Sim's throat.

                         SIM

          ... gurk... understood.

INT.  MAIN LAB

Wearing one of the protective suits, Susan pushes through

part of a containment crew, heading for the elevator.

Most of the CREW is surrounding the CAPTAIN.

                         CREW #3

          The whole west wing is gone,

          Captain.

                         CREW #4

          It's in the phone lines --

                         CREW #5

          It's spreading to the underground

          pipes --

                         CREW #6

          We gotta get out of here!

The Captain notices Susan.

                         CAPTAIN

          Hey!  Where are you going?

Thinking fast, she points to her crotch as though needing

to go to the bathroom.  The Captain nods.

INT.  CONSERVATORY

O'Brien is deflated, head cradled in an arm coil.  His

other arm is raised against the perspex wall.

He has turned his finger into a glass cutter, moving it

around and around in a slow deliberate circle.

INT.  POPPY'S BEDROOM

Argon stands before the mirror wearing a new black suit,

like O'Brien's.

                         ARGON

          Excellent work, Dr. Nebbleman.  You

          have outdone yourself.

                         NEBBLEMAN

          Thank you, sir.

Poppy steps behind him, running her hands over his body.

                         POPPY

          Oh, Icky, you know what latex does

          to me...

Someone KNOCKS at the door.

                         ARGON

          Enter.

Sim does.

                         SIM

          Dr. Argon, everything's starting to

          come apart here.  You hired me to

          take care of these matters of

          security and I am trying, but

          elements are making my job

          impossible.

                         ARGON

          Have you found Dr. Bright?

                         SIM

          No.  The captain of the containment

          crew is closing down the main lab.

          He says the area has got to be

          evacuated.

                         NEBBLEMAN

          He's probably right, sir, the

          building is probably going to

          collapse under its own weight.

                         SIM

          And if we evacuate, what do you want

          to do with O'Brien?

                         ARGON

          It'll be better for us if he simply

          disappears.  The gardener will know

          what to do.

                         NEBBLEMAN

          Wait, wait, can I at least have his

          body?

                         ARGON

          Donated to science.  Perfect.

INT.  CONSERVATORY

The glass cutter tracing the circle has completely lost

its shape; his FINGER SQUEAKING against the Plexiglas.

The Gardener leads Sim, Doby, and Nebbleman towards

O'Brien's geranium.

                         SIM

          Can I ask you something?  Do you

          ever take that mask off?

The Gardener shakes his head.

                         SIM

          Doesn't it get hot?

The Gardener nods.

At the end of the path, they reach O'Brien's tank.

O'Brien sleepily lifts his head.

                         SIM

          Sorry, pal.  Check out time.  Moral

          of story; next life, mind your own

          business.

The Gardener begins to shut off the valves.  The gauges

drop to zero as the gas OPENING at the top of the tank

RASPS and goes SILENT.

Immediately, O'Brien knows that he is going to suffocate.

He screams and pounds on the Plexi.

They all watch as his soft rubbery fists mash uselessly

against the walls of the tank.

                         SIM

          Even a plastic man's gotta breathe,

          eh, Doc?

Nebbleman is too entranced to reply.

At the far end of the conservatory, the door swings open.

Sim glances over his shoulder and sees a member of the

containment Crew striding toward them.

                         SIM

          What are you doing here?  You're

          supposed to be looking for the

          woman.

                         CREWMAN

          We found her.

The voice is muffled by the headgear.

                         SIM

          What?  Did you say you found her?

Body catches the scent of something fishy.  He turns to

the Crew Member.

Behind Sim, O'Brien sucks at the thinning air, his punches

growing weaker.

The Crew Member lunges at Sim but Doby is ready --

Seizing hold of the small body while tearing off the

helmet, revealing Susan Bright.

                         NEBBLEMAN

          Susan!

                         SIM

          Wellie well, Dr. Bright.  You're

          just in time.

O'Brien's eyes bulge when he sees her, but he knows it is

too late.  His hands press against the plexi, his eyes

melt into silicon tears.

                         SUSAN

          Nooo!

Like a wild animal she bites Doby, twisting free just long

enough to jump at Sim and --

Snatch the gun from his belt.

Sim grabs her wrist and they fight for control until Susan

manages to squeezes off a SINGLE SHOT --

That punches a hole in O'Brien's tank.

The hole is tiny, but it is all Plastic Man needs.

He dives at it, thinning to a pencil, driving himself

through.

He emerges from the other side, like a genie freed from

his lamp.

                         SIM

          Uh-oh.

Afraid now, Sim twists Susan's arm behind her back and

yanks the gun free.

Nebbleman cowers behind Doby.

The Gardener slips away, hurrying for his spray can.

O'Brien faces Sim, his eyes blazing with malice

aforethought.

Sim hides behind Susan, holding the gun to her, barely

able to see over her shoulder.

                         SIM

          Here we go again, eh, O'Brien?  I

          got the gun, I got the girl.  All

          you got is some rubber underwear!

He laughs, feeling a little better.

O'Brien points a single finger that creeps slowly at Sim.

                         O'BRIEN

          I've been thinking about you, Mr.

          Sim.

Sim watches it as the tip shapes into a fish hook.

                         O'BRIEN

          All the different ways that I could

          kill you.

                         SIM

          Oh yeah?

He aims the gun at O'Brien.

                         SIM

          Maybe you're ready to find out if

          that hide of yours is bulletproof?

                         O'BRIEN

          The question is, are you?

Sim thumbs back the hammer.

                         O'BRIEN

          Because once you pull the trigger,

          if that bullet doesn't kill me, we

          both know, you're a dead man.

Sim's hand shakes.

                         SIM

          I ain't afraid of no plastic man.

BOOM.

The bullet sinks into O'Brien's chest, pushing his flesh

back with a shrieking stretch, projecting it out behind

him impossibly, until --

The bullet stops.

O'Brien looks back at Sim whose eyes fill with fear.

Susan dives to the ground as the bullet comes rushing back

and --

With a resounding whip crack, hits Sim right in the chest.

Sim sinks to the ground, dead.

Doby howls and rushes O'Brien who turns his fists into

sledgehammers.

Nebbleman bolts but Susan snatches hold of him.

                         SUSAN

          Do you know the best thing about

          having you as an assistant, Nigel?

She wrings the lapel of his lab coat.

                         SUSAN

          Was knowing that if you ever pissed

          me off, I could always kick your

          ass.

She winds up just as Nebbleman's eyes cross.

                         NEBBLEMAN

          Ohhh...

He faints into a bruise colored bush.  She shakes her

head.

O'Brien pounds the sound of chirping birds into Doby's

skull as Susan sees the Gardener rushing behind him.

                         SUSAN

          Daniel!

But the spray can is already HISSING, pumping out deadly

clouds of red gas.

                         O'BRIEN

          Not this time, pal!

O'Brien clasps his hands together and forms a giant

bellows that sucks up all the gas.

                         O'BRIEN

          Let's see how you like it.

He shoves the nozzle of the bellows into the filter of his

gas mask and squeezes.

The dark glass eyes fill with smoke as the Gardener

thrashes around trying to get the mask off.

He stumbles, flailing wildly and smashes into the

seamonkey geranium.

The little creatures swarm all over him as he collapses to

the ground.

O'Brien turns just as Susan rushes into his arms.

                         O'BRIEN

          You saved my life.

                         SUSAN

          Did you think I could just leave

          you...?

They hold each other tightly, feeling the volatile

electrons charging the air, creating an intermolecular

bond between them.

                         O'BRIEN

          Susie... I...