X-Men Script 1.
I'm taking the unused X-Men Script from
dailyscript. com/ scripts/ x-men_walker3 .html
There are 2 others, so keep an eye out for when I post them! I'm turning them from Script to Story Format. I give all credit to the awesome writers. I wish they would have used more of these scripts!
X-MEN
Screenplay by
Andrew Kevin Walker
FIRST DRAFT
2nd revision June 7, 1994
On a city street at night, a billboard atop one building reads, "MUTANTS MUST REGISTER."
Hollywood Boulevard sidewalks are filled with weirdos, tourists and movie-goers. People stop to watch as a van with megaphones on its roof drives by slowly.
"…deadline for mutant registration is August fourth. All mutants must file for identification papers by this date..." A voice declares through the megaphones on top the van.
LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
People are uneasy. Following the megaphone van as it makes its way down the street, its still announcing. It stops at a red light. A National Guard troop truck races through the intersection in front of the van.
Somewhere else, on a dark, back street, a few men run towards a commotion ahead. The troop truck rounds a corner and passes them, with its horns blaring.
The truck till it arrives at a parking lot behind brick apartment buildings. A rowdy crowd of curious civilians part to let the truck through, then regroups, watching the mysterious on goings. National Guardsmen leap from the truck, heading to the far corner of the lot to join other soldiers there. Military Men have surrounded a group of homeless people. Four of the homeless are against a wall, held at gunpoint. It's the fifth homeless person a fearful military Commander is concerned with, coming to shove him roughly.
"Turn around and face the wall. Do it! Keep your arms down!" The Commander orders.
The scruffy Fifth Man, in a tattered raincoat, looking just as frightened, obediently turns his back to the guns leveled at him. Commander approaches, cautious, reaching to the raincoat...He pulls the raincoat down. The Fifth Man is shirtless and dirty. He has four arms. Muscular arms. The other homeless men react in fear, moving away. The crowd begins shouting and calling out for Guardsmen.
"Kill him!"
"Shoot the mutie!"
"Freak!"
And others.
Soldiers holding the crowd at bay tighten their ranks. A National Guardsman steps forward with a camera and a high-powered flash. He takes pictures of the mutated Fifth Man.
At the edge of the lot, away from the crowd, a well dressed man stands watching, his face tense with anger. His hair is pure white. His manner refined and stately. He is known to many as Magneto, less as Erik. Magneto turns and walks away, into a narrow, dark alleyway.
METROPOLITAN SKYLINE – NIGHT
A glittering cityscape. In one sleek skyscraper, in a penthouse window, a man, Logan, in a black suit, looks out.
TORONTO, CANADA
SKYSCRAPER OFFICE, RECEPTION AREA - NIGHT
Logan has an animalistic look to him, complimented by thick black sideburns and spiked hair. He studies the city, lights a cigar.
"Mister Logan..." A male voice asks.
Logan looks to the snotty receptionist at her desk and blows a smoke ring. "This is a non-smoking building." The annoying receptionist says.
"Not anymore, bub. Unless you're thinking of trying to take this away from me." Logan says, with a slight growl. The receptionist shrinks. Big doors open. A man known as Perkins enters, suave.
"Mister Logan. Follow me." He says.
BOSS MAN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Perkins enters, followed by Logan, who carries a briefcase.
Across the room, Boss Man sits behind a desk, flanked by EIGHT thug-brutebody guards. Boss Man wears a garish wrestling mask.
"Stay where you are." Boss Man orders.
"Whatever you say. Nice mask." Logan replies, not worried.
"You have no need to see my face. By insisting on meeting me, you've created a atmosphere of mistrust. However, the customer is always right... especially when he has a suitcase full of cash. Will you do the honors, Perkins?"
Perkins goes to take a short, black metallic rod off a bookshelf.
He flicks a switch on it. It hums to life. Logan eyes the device.
"Now, hold on a second. What's that?" Logan asks.
"A metal-detector." Boss Man replies.
"Yeah? What happened to a good, old fashioned frisking?" Logan asks, with a chuckle.
"This is less offensive to most, and more effective. What seems to be the problem?"
Logan looks unhappy. His tie tack has a tiny, waffled microphone hole.
TORONTO STREET - NIGHT
A large, innocuous van is parked at the curb. Through a speaker, we hear Boss Man asking, "You wouldn't have been foolish enough to bring a weapon here. You wouldn't..."
Inside the van, many agents are surrounded by recording devices and speakers.
The team's Monitor Man listens through headphones:
"... insult me like that, would you?" Boss Man finishes.
Monitor Man looks up to several armored agents, ready to go.
"Things just went sour." He says to the group around him.
BOSS MAN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
Logan, in a no-win situation, resides himself, holds up his hands.
"Knock yourself out." He says. Perkins brings the metal-detector under Logan's arm. It lets out a loud squeal..Boss Man stands, angry, points a gun at Logan.
"Disarm the gentleman, Perkins."
"There's... there's nothing here." Perkins says, finding nothing.
"There must be. Find the gun."
The detector gives a loud squeal all over Logan. Even his head triggers it. Perkins is baffled. Logan smiles, shrugs and kicks Perkins, and slams him aside and charges at Boss Man. Boss Man fires his gun. Logan hits the floor and rolls. He tries to get up, but is wracked by a spasm of pain. He cringes, his eyes shut tight...
FLASHBACK - LOGAN'S MEMORY - P.O.V. FROM UNDERWATER
Through a tangle of wires and tubes. Like looking from inside an aquarium to the outside world. Some sort of figure in a lab coat passes, their image warped and made unrecognizable by the water and glass. Logan opens his eyes, gasps, disoriented. Perkins pounds him across the forehead with the metal-detector that knocks him out. Across the room, Boss Man pushes a button on his desk. A bookshelf slides up behind him, revealing a hidden passageway.
TORONTO STREET - NIGHT
Four armored Strike-Force Agents run from the innocuous van.
CHEMICAL WEAPON TEST LAB - NIGHT
Bodyguards carry Logan's body into a futuristic lab. There's a gleaming gas chamber ahead. Logan's body is thrown in. The chamber door is slammed and sealed shut. Logan lies groggy. The gash on his head, from Perkins' blow is already beginning to heal. Boss Man, Perkins and bodyguards look in from outside the chamber through the ultra-thick window as Logan comes to his senses.
"The chemical weapon you came here to purchase is called Bio-thrax, Mister Logan. Within minutes of contacting human flesh it causes blistering ulcers."
Logan gets to his knees.
"But, that's nothing compared to what it does to your lungs. Please accept thisfree sample with my compliments."
Boss Man snaps his fingers. Perkins pulls a lever.
Clouds of gas begin hissing into the chamber. Boss Man laughs.
Through the window, Logan looks up, furious, lifts his fists.
Just before Logan is enshrouded by the gas…
SNICKT!
Three 9 inch metal claws shoot out from the backs of his hands.
"What... what was that?" Boss Man asks, stunned.
"Looked like... some sort of knives." Perkins replied.
SLUNKT!
Logan's metal claws jab through the glass. Boss Man and the others back away.
SKRRREEEEKKK!
Logan's claws cut the glass with ease, and then withdraw.
SKKRRRENK! SKKKKKREEEEEK!
The claws slash quick and make a triangular pattern. The triangle is kicked out.
"Don't just stand there. Get him!" Boss Man yells out. Bodyguards, guns out, keep back to avoid the escaping gas which rises to the ceiling. Then, Logan leaps straight out of the gas cloud. He tackles one bodyguard to the floor, crazed, face covered ingas-induced blisters, raising a clawed fist, about to kill...
INNOCUOUS VAN - NIGHT
Monitor Man hears a scream and gunshots through his headphones.
Monitor Man reacts, throws the headphones off. More screams are heard.
It sounds like bodyguards are battling a snarling, murderous beast.
"Here we go again." He sighed, and sends the agents in.
RECEPTION AREA - NIGHT
The four Strike-Force Agents cross from the elevator, guns up, past the flustered, lame Receptionist, towards offices. "
Um... do you have an appointment?" She says before fainting.
BOSS MAN'S OFFICE - NIGHT
The door is kicked in. Strike-Force Agents enter. Across the room, the bookshelf slides up. Strike-Force Agents level their guns, tense, waiting. After a moment, Logan walks in, disheveled, less blistered, his suit shredded and spotted with blood. He looks around calmly, straightening his tie. "I hope you brought a mop."