POINT BREAK

SHOCK CUT -- ANGELO TURNING TOWARD HIM, at the drop car

scene. Eons ago. The sound of his voice ringing...

PAPPAS

Forget about it, kid, They're

ghosts...

BACK TO JOHNNY, as he backs away from Tyler. Still in

shock, recoiling from the situation.

UTAH

I... I gotta go.

TYLER

Johnny... what's going on? I don't

get it... did I do something?

UTAH

No. I'm sorry. I have to go.

I'll, uh... I'll call you later.

I'm sorry.

He sets off running up the beach.

Tyler stares after him. Confused and hurt.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. PAPPAS' HOUSE - NIGHT

Early evening. Utah pulls into the driveway. When he

kills the engine we hear Greek music from inside the

house.

AT THE ENTRANCE Johnny finds the door ajar. He pushes it

open a little to reveal--

INT. HOUSE

Pappas dancing alone in the living room with his shirt

off, holding a glass of ouzo. Facing away from the door

the ample Greek hears Utah's tentative knock. Without

breaking from his dance or turning he calls out--

PAPPAS

Hey, babe. Get on over here so the

big dog can teach ya how to bark.

Pappas howls like a bloodhound, then twirls around.

UTAH

Woof, woof.

We see the startled Pappas, at a loss for the first time.

PAPPAS

Johnny! Uh, you, uh... should call

first, you know? Hey, where the

hell were you all day? You gotta at

least call in or something. You

okay?

UTAH

Angelo, we gotta talk.

Pappas moves toward him, kind of subconsciously herding

Utah back out the door.

PAPPAS

Listen, uh... if you're okay, can it

wait till tomorrow morning, kid,

I...

Johnny hears footsteps and turns.

Miss Deer comes through the door like it's not the first

time, carrying a bag of groceries.

MISS DEER

Angie, they didn't have the kind of

wine you like but I got... oh, hi

Johnny!

Her icy office persona obviously got left there. Her hair

is unbound and flows around her shoulders, and in halter

top and jeans she looks delectably off-duty.

Angelo looks at Utah like don't you say a fucking word.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOUSE

A few minutes later. Utah and Pappas leaning on his car.

The younger agent seems to have regained his hunt-down

fever.

UTAH

... so I started tailing him.

PAPPAS

This Zen master surfer.

UTAH

Bodhi, yeah. I'm on him all day,

right. He goes here, he goes there,

he goes to Tower Records and buys

come CDs, he has lunch at Patrick's

Road House...

(mock casual)

... he goes into the Assured Trust

Savings and Loan.

PAPPAS

Did he rob it?

UTAH

Cute. He was inside for about 20

minutes. The other guy, Roach,

waited in the truck. They were

scoping it out, right?!

UTAH

Yeah, or cashing a check.

UTAH

Wait, wait. Then these guys go back

to their beach house and box up all

their shit. Load it in Bodhi's

truck and take it to a public

storage unit. You see? Summer's

almost over. They're splitting.

They're gonna pick up a little

traveling money tomorrow. The next

day at the outside latest. I got a

feeling.

PAPPAS

Last time you got a feeling I had to

kill a man, which I always hate

because it looks bad on the report.

UTAH

Angelo... I'm right this time. We

can still win this one.

Angelo looks at the conviction in the other agent's eyes.

Pappas sighs and puts a hand on Johnny's shoulder.

PAPPAS

Alright, look... banks are closed.

Nothing's gonna go down tonight,

right? So we'll be on these guys

like white on rice... first thing

tomorrow morning. Okay? Tomorrow.

Okay?

Utah nods. Then grins. Pappas starts backing up, like a

long rubber band which was stretched taut is pulling him

back into the house.

UTAH

Woof, woof.

CUT TO:

EXT. STREET NEAR BODHI'S HOUSE - DAY

LONG LENS POV scanning Bodhi's house. There is a "FOR

RENT" sign out front. The driveway and carpet are

empty... no vehicles in sight.

UTAH (V.O.)

They're gone. Son of a bitch. We

missed them.

UTAH LOWERS HIS BINOCULARS. He's standing next to the car

while Pappas sits on the hood, sipping coffee from a

thermos.

PAPPAS

They're on their way to Maui.

UTAH

No way. Not yet. Come on.

Utah jumps in and starts the car. Pappas is screwing the

cap on the thermos. Johnny puts the car in gear, forcing

Angelo to scramble in as the car starts to roll.

PAPPAS

Jesus Christ, kid! The banks don't

open 'till nine.

EXT. CITY STREET - TRAFFIC - DAY

Johnny weaves the sedan among the creeping commuters.

Long glittering lines and heat waves.

UTAH

I say we call it in. Get some

backup. But you gotta do it. Harp

won't listen to me.

PAPPAS

Sure. No problem. I'll just call

up and tell him his favorite agent

saw this one surfer moon another

surfer yesterday and it looked real

suspicious. Shit, he'll probably

call out the National Guard.

UTAH

I say we don't call it in. Under no

circumstance are we to call this in.

PAPPAS

Look, we handle it ourselves, for

right now, okay? We cover the bank,

whatever. You and me. That way if

nothing happens, or more accurately,

when nothing happens... I don't get

my tits any further into the wringer

than they already are.

CUT TO:

EXT. ASSURED TRUST SAVING AND LOAN

SLOW PAN from the facade of the bank halfway up the block

to Utah's sedan in the TIGHT F.G. Head flopped back over

the seat, Angelo snoozes in the hot sun with a sports page

over his face. Johnny looks at his watch for the fiftieth

time. Whole lot of nothing going on.

Angelo slides the sports page down to his chin, without

otherwise moving.

PAPPAS

Time for lunch.

UTAH

Angelo, it's eleven thirty.

PAPPAS

That place up the street has

meatball sandwiches. Get me two.

Utah slides out of the car. Feeling a little exposed he

pulls his Dodgers cap down a little tighter, and adjusts

his sunglasses.

He trudges off through the sidewalk crowd toward the FAST-

FOOD STAND nearby.

Pappas pulls the sports page back up to block the sun.

CUT TO:

EXT. FAST FOOD PLACE

ON A LONG LENS, very stacked up, we see Johnny standing at

the grody pick-up window. He keeps looking at the bank,

visible B.G.

The pick-up window opens and food appears, sliding out.

Utah turns, pulling out his wallet.

VOICE FROM INSIDE

Two meatball, one tuna on wheat,

two lemonades. Total's seven eighty

four.

As Johnny is counting out the bills, a BURGUNDY

THUNDERBIRD pulls up in front of the bank. The doors fly

open.

The Ex-Presidents jump out.

They sprint for the entrance. All this OUT OF FOCUS, B.G.

Johnny misses it as he picks up the food order.

The Presidents disappear inside.

Johnny looks toward the bank again. There is no movement.

REVERSE, as Utah walks back toward his car. Pappas is

still under the paper. He slides it down when he smells

food.

UTAH

Here, yours is the one that looks

like a road kill. Enjoy.

Utah throws a big stack of napkins through the window into

Pappas' lap. Still standing next to the car.

UTAH

Here's your lemonade.

(he looks down the

street)

Did you see that T-Bird pull up?

Pappas pulls a disgusting mass from the bag, unwrapping

one end.

PAPPAS

(without looking)

Damn, I could eat the ass out of an

elephant. I shoulda had you get me

three a these. What T-Bird?

Pappas is about to take a huge bite when a meatball falls

out of the end of the sandwich. It lands on the seat next

to him.

He looks at it. Picks it up. Pops it into his mouth

and--

Freezes, mouth open. Eyes focused on...

The Ex-Presidents, in living color, flashing through the

doors of the bank 80 feet away.

Johnny is so astounded he doesn't do anything for about

two seconds. Pappas coughs out his meatball, eyes

bugging.

PAPPAS

Jesus Christ!! It's them!

The Presidents are piling into the car.

Johnny reacts characteristically. He whips out the

Beretta and yells--

UTAH

FBI!! Freeze!! Right now!

NIXON spins, raising his shotgun.

But Reagan knocks the muzzle down with his hand. Shoves

him into the car. Then Reagan jumps behind the wheel.

The back wheels light up, smoking, as the T-Bird launches.

Utah FIRES.

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

He puts two into the trunk and blows the back window into

junk jewelry. The T-Bird peels out into traffic, clipping

a Subaru which locks them up and spins.

PAPPAS

Come on, kid, get in the car!

Jesus!

INT./ EXT. SEDAN

Pappas reaches across, starting the engine as Johnny jumps

in the driver's side. Utah buries the throttle into the

firewall and charges aggressively through the medium

traffic.

Their sedan slews around the back of an eighteen wheeler,

fishtailing. It straightens out. No T-Bird in sight.

UTAH

The hell are they?!

PAPPAS

They took a left at the next light!

UTAH

You sure?!

Utah is totally wired. Totally concentrated. The

adrenalin is kicking in, flashing through his system. His

brain is on turbo boost, reacting a thousand times a

second as they hit sixty through the traffic, which seems

to be standing still.

UTAH

I got 'em. I see 'em. I'm on it,

I'm on it.

High-speed slalom through cars and trucks.

The world passes by in a hysterical blur.

PAPPAS

You even watching the road?

A car pulls out, straight ahead.

Utah swerves wildly, mostly gets around him. The guy's

bumper and front grille are removed. Utah does a smoking

skid-recovery. Doesn't even slow down.

The late model T-Bird is weaving manically. It makes a

sliding turn onto a cross street half a block ahead of the

FBI agents.

Utah cuts the wheel into a huge Ralph's parking lot.

Pedestrians scatter. Utah center-punches a week's supply

of groceries in a cart.

INT./ EXT. T-BIRD

The Presidents hold on desperately as Reagan white-

knuckles it through civilian traffic. They're looking all

around, trying to see where Utah went.

LBJ

Where are they, man? I don't see

'em. We lose 'em?

Not exactly... THROUGH THE WINDSHIELD we see an airborne

Utah hurtling from a Ralph's entrance. The sedan lands on

the street, tearing chunks out of the asphalt with the

undercarriage.

An instant later it hammers into the side of the T-Bird.

The two cars spin out of control. Utah cuts the wheel,

slamming into them again. Side by side demolition derby.

WHAM!! Utah hits them again. The Presidents lose

control, jumping a curb, losing the right front tire in

the process.

Utah's car starts to swap ends. Hit the center island

broadside.

The sedan flips onto its back in an explosion of glass.

SCREECH of steel on concrete as it comes to rest.

Hanging upside down, Pappas is mightily pissed off.

PAPPAS

Nice fuckin' work, hotshot.

Christ!

They can see the T-Bird still moving.

It slews drunkenly as the driver maintains speed on

flapping rubber.

Johnny shimmies out of the wreckage, sliding on his back

in broken glass. Pappas is packed in, upside down,

wriggling to get out through the side window. A tight

fit.

INT./ EXT. T-BIRD

The Presidents are hammered up and down by the flailing

tire.

REAGAN

Emergency sanitization! Here we go!

EXT. GAS STATION

The T-Bird vaults into the parking lot and slides to a

smoking stop at one of the pump islands. The Presidents

explode out of the car in a blur.

Reagan bodyslams a TEENAGER putting gas in his MUSTANG.

He flips his big pistol to LBJ as the other Presidents

charge past him. Nixon jumps behind the wheel of the

Mustang. LBJ and JFK pile in.

Reagan grabs the gas nozzle out of the car.

He pulls out a ZIPPO LIGHTER.

Reagan raises the gas nozzle like a gun and holds the

zippo below and slightly in front of it. He flicks the

flame.

Then pulls the trigger on the nozzle.

Like an impromptu flame thrower, the nozzle spews A TWENTY

FOOT JET OF FIRE which engulfs the T-Bird in an instant.

Any physical evidence in the car is rapidly incinerated.

Customers are running, screaming.

Nixon has the Mustang fired up.

NIXON

Let's go! Move it, Ronny!

Ronny's eyes sparkle behind his mask as he paints the

scene with the jet of fire. You can see it getting good

to him. In a second he's going to blow up the whole

block. But he's getting his rocks off. He sets two other

cars on fire.

A FIGURE BLURS INTO FRAME.

In a flying tackle, Utah catapults Reagan off his pins.

They roll, skidding across the oily concrete.

Spraying wild, the fire swirls around the pump island.

Out of the black smoke, PAPPAS charges like an angry bull,

his snubnose held high. NIXON sees him and floors it.

The Mustang smokes out of the gas station as Pappas' shots

blow out the back window.

Utah and Reagan roll away from the blaze. Johnny's pants

are burning. He gets to his knees in time for Reagan's

kick to take him square in the solar plexus. He folds in

half. Drops to the cement.

Reagan kicks him again and takes off running.

The President is burning.

His suit jacket is ablaze. He shucks out of it as he

runs.

Gasping, Johnny rapidly slaps his jeans. Puts himself

out. He comes up running, pulling his Beretta. Sees the

back of Reagan's head disappearing into an alley behind

the gas station.

EXT. ALLEY

A non-descript L.A. alley... commercial buildings on one

side, walled suburb on the other. Two men running all

out.

A recent President and a wild-eyed cop trailing smoke like

a crashing jet fighter.

Beyond the buildings behind them A FIREBALL EXPLODES

SKYWARD. We hear sirens and shouting, which recede as the

two pelt along the alley. It gets quieter. Just the

machine-gun slap of the shoes on pavement, and the hard

breathing of the two men, each in overdrive, going all out

in long blurring strides.

REAGAN looks back. Sees the demon cop behind him,

gaining.

Utah has become an engine, a running machine... juggernaut

mode.

AHEAD OF THEM a BLACK AND WHITE swings into the alley.

Reagan hangs a hard left and blasts a wooden gate half off

its hinges. Utah whips through the gate a second later.

Diving into suburbia.

INT./ EXT. NEIGHBORHOOD - FOOTCHASE SEQUENCE

It becomes a blur. Pure kinetic energy. Two meteors

rocketing through a low-rent suburb. And God help anyone

who gets in the way.

Reagan crosses a cluttered backyard.

Broken field run through toys, swing set, stacks of god-

knows-what.

He runs through a Mr. Turtle Pool in an explosion of

spray.

Crashes through a hedge.

Through the narrow gap between houses.

Utah powers into the tight space behind him.

Blurring along between stucco walls.

They emerge into the front yard.

A WOMAN watering her lawn is so surprised she yelps and

falls down.

Reagan and Utah both hurdle her.

AHEAD, KIDS ON BIKES, racing along the sidewalk.

Reagan dodges the first, Utah slams into the next two.

He crashes, rolling, tangled up in bikes and squawking

teenagers.

He comes out of a pile-up somehow still in high gear.

Reagan flashes across the sunlit street.

Dodges in front of a GARBAGE TRUCK which locks up the

brakes.

It stops so fast, one of the guys falls off the back.

The GUY is getting up as Utah whips around the back of the

truck.

Knocks him sprawling.

Utah doesn't stop. Doesn't look back.

Like he doesn't see anything in the real world but the

figure running ahead of him. Like it's some kind of

hyperkinetic video game.

Everything is a blur. Suburbia smeared into staccato

impressions.

The house across the street is blocked by fence on both

sides.

A MAN is picking up his mail.