01
TEASER: INT SPORTS BAR
FADE IN SPORTSCASTERS BEFORE FADE FROM BLACK TO HELICOPTER PANORAMIC OF CHICAGO SKYLINE AT NIGHT.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR (V.O.)
That's two away here in the bottom of the ninth, but Vazquez heads to the plate with the tying run on second.
COLOR COMMENTATOR (V.O.)
One out away from what'd basically be an early end to the season. The Cubbies have to have this win if they want any shot at the wild card, Tom.
HELICOPTER SHOT gradually zooms in on a brick storefront along a brightly-lit downtown street, toward an ordinary-looking sports bar at the end of the row.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR
Vazquez looking, takes ball one. For those of you just tuning in for the ten o'clock headlines, Chicago is in a do-or-die situation hosting the Dodgers tonight; a loss here will allow Colorado to clinch the last remaining NL playoff berth, ending any hopes for a trip to the postseason for the Cubs.
COLOR COMMENTATOR
Remember, Vazquez thrives on pressure situations like this one, Tom. He's batting .388 with runners in scoring position this season, and I've gotta believe management traded for him for at-bats like this one.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR
Swing and a miss, the count is even at one and one.
Inside, DAVE is watching the game at the bar a few stools away from another CUBS FAN as the female BARTENDER is cleaning up a spill. He looks over across the room at ANGELA, who is sitting with her friends. Apparently this isn't the first time he's looked her way.
BARTENDER
Take a picture. It'll last longer.
DAVE
(innocently)
Huh?
BARTENDER
(mildly amused)
Sweetie, I've caught you checking her out the last three times you were both in here.
DAVE chuckles sheepishly.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR (TV)
Fouled straight back, count's even again at two balls, two strikes.
BARTENDER
She might've looked back your way once or twice; I'm not sure. Why don't you just go try and talk to her?
DAVE
You... you think I should?
BARTENDER
(shrugs)
Would you rather just sit on your ass and stare at her every night?
DAVE
Fair enough.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR (TV)
A swing and a... weak fly ball to shallow center.
A number of anguished (but unsurprised) groans can be heard from around the bar.
PLAY-BY-PLAY COMMENTATOR (TV)
Anderson settles in and... makes the catch. And that'll do it, Rick.
COLOR COMMENTATOR (TV)
(dejectedly)
That's gonna close the door on their playoff bid and effectively close the books on what's definitely been a season of ups and downs...
DAVE looks down the bar to his right and smiles weakly.
DAVE
Guess there's always n-
CUBS FAN
(glaring daggers)
Don't even say it.
CUBS FAN turns away and mutters something into his beer about the woes of ongoing managerial incompetence as DAVE drains his glass, slides off the barstool and strides over to speak to ANGELA. The BARTENDER half-watches as she tidies up the cash register. On the way across the room, DAVE passes a somewhat disheveled-looking man with dark, bushy hair and unsettling WILD EYES, who also seems to be looking in ANGELA's direction.
DAVE
Hey.
ANGELA looks up and smiles faintly. Her friends are talking amongst themselves, and she seems a little left out.
ANGELA
Hey.
DAVE momentarily fumbles for something to say before noticing a Cubs-logo keychain fob attached to ANGELA's purse.
DAVE
Sucks that they're not gonna make the playoffs now.
ANGELA
I've lived in this town long enough that it doesn't surprise me anymore. Angela, by the way.
DAVE
I'm Dave. So, Angela, what do you do when you're not watching the Cubs lose?
ANGELA
(mildly amused)
You from the South Side or something? Let's see... I’m about a semester and a half away from my MFA at UIC. Contemporary Theater. You?
DAVE
Oh, you know... I’m kind of... in between jobs at the moment. I’ve got a BS in Criminal Justice, and...
ANGELA
Planning on being a cop?
DAVE
(frowning a little)
Well, I was, but... my application to the police academy was declined the other day. Second time this year.
ANGELA
(sympathetically)
Sorry to hear that. Did they say why?
DAVE opens his mouth to explain, pauses, then decides against it. Meanwhile, WILD EYES slides out of his seat and slowly makes his way over to where DAVE and ANGELA are talking.
DAVE
Long story.
ANGELA
Just keep trying. I'm sure they'll let you in eventually.
DAVE
Thanks.
(long pause)
So tell me more about Angela, if you don't mind. What made you want to get into theater?
ANGELA
Honestly? I guess it's just the thrill of-
The conversation is interrupted as WILD EYES walks up behind ANGELA, who turns to face him. His clothing and most of his appearance aren't odd at all, but besides being uncommonly hairy and the characteristic wildness in his eyes, the man seems to give off an aura - almost like a smell, not necessarily unpleasant but noticeably unusual - which visibly affects those around him. DAVE is inexplicably uneasy and intimidated while ANGELA appears unconsciously drawn to some sort of animal magnetism WILD EYES emanates.
WILD EYES
Full moon out tonight.
ANGELA
(absently)
Yeah... yeah, it is.
Wild Eyes grunts to himself as if confirming his own observation before regarding Angela with a hungry stare.
DAVE
(to ANGELA, tentatively)
You... you know this guy?
ANGELA doesn't answer. WILD EYES stares coldly at DAVE but appears more annoyed than actually angry. After a moment of awkward silence, WILD EYES looks back at ANGELA.
WILD EYES
I'm Joe.
ANGELA
(almost robotically)
Hi. I'm Angela.
WILD EYES
I think we should get out of here.
ANGELA just nods.
DAVE
(more angry than anxious now)
Look, man, we were talking here. I mean, that's a serious dick move...
WILD EYES slowly turns and glares at DAVE again, this time with genuine hostility along with what could almost be mistaken for a flicker of animal-like eyeshine. DAVE abruptly falls silent, unconsciously leaning backward in his chair. At length, WILD EYES turns his gaze back toward ANGELA, who without a word or a glance at DAVE or her friends slowly gets out of her seat, slings her purse over her shoulder, and follows WILD EYES across the room. As they pass, the BARTENDER eyes the strange man with a mixture of recognition, suspicion, and anxiety. DAVE watches them exit and then sits there in disbelief, unsure exactly what has just transpired. One of ANGELA's friends notices and hurriedly approaches DAVE.
ANGELA'S FRIEND
(puzzled and alarmed)
Who was that guy? What just happened?
DAVE
(long pause)
I... I have no idea.
Without acknowledging ANGELA'S FRIEND further, DAVE slowly returns to his seat at the bar. The BARTENDER sets another beer down in front of him.
BARTENDER
This one's on the house... if you can tell me what he said or did to her.
DAVE blinks, more confused than ever.
DAVE
What the hell just happened? All he did was say something about the moon being out tonight, they traded names, and next thing I know they're headed out the door!
(pausing to take a swig)
I thought I was doing pretty well, too.
BARTENDER
Don't take it personally. He's been in here three or four times before, and pretty much the same thing happens every time. He's only spoken to me once... there's something really weird about that guy.
DAVE
(thinking out loud)
You know... it wasn't anything he said or did. It was... he just felt strange, somehow. Being around him felt wrong. I can't explain it.
DAVE can't sit down anymore. He hops off the barstool.
DAVE
Sorry. I've had a rotten day, and this wasn't how I wanted to finish it off.
DAVE reaches into his wallet and lays a ten and a five on the bar.
BARTENDER
Don't let it get to you, okay? In fact... it's probably better if you forget all about that.
DAVE looks CONFUSED and a little perturbed by the BARTENDER's advice but decides not to push the issue. He heads out the door past the BOUNCER as the BARTENDER hurriedly grabs her cell phone from behind the bar and dials a number.
BARTENDER
Yeah, it's me again.
(pause as if listening)
He was here again. Just left.
CUT TO AN OVERHEAD SHOT OF A BLACK LUXURY CAR SPEEDING DOWN A NEARBY STREET.
