Scene 4
The camera shows a full view of downtown Metro City before focusing on the rooftop of one of the high rise buildings. A male figure is seen leaning over the edge of the building, looking through a pair of binoculars. The camera focuses on his face and we see that it is PSYMON STARK.
PSYMON: Come on, Fraser! I haven't got all night, damn it! (He peers through the binoculars again, stopping to focus on the street below, but there is no sign of anyone or anything except for the red car, which is still is parked near the curb where he left it.) Gaah, COME ON!
He sighs in frustration, then begins to drums his fingers rhythmically on the ledge of the building, and before long he finds himself humming and singing Do Your Thing by the Basement Jax.
PSYMON: I don't need no TV, I don't need no news. All I need is a bumpin' beat to bump away my blu-u-ues. Oooh, I don't give a damn what the people say! I'm gonna do it, gonna do it my way! Gonna let it all out and do my thing! Boom, boom, boom and a bang, bang, bang! Oooh, do your thing-
(enter 25-year-old SSX competitor ELISE RIGGS)
ELISE: Well, well, well, what do we have here? Psymon Stark has resorted to spying on people atop trashy apartment buildings in order to pass the time during off season. I must say I'm not surprised, though I certainly didn't expect you to go downhill so quickly.
PSYMON: (He casts a dark over his shoulder.) Eh. Shut up, Elise. I ain't here to pass time. I'm on a very important mission, thank you very much.
ELISE: (She arches an eyebrow.) Oh, really? Pray tell, what kind of important mission could you possibly have to fulfill?
PSYMON: None of yours, so shut your trap.
ELISE: I don't think I like that tone.
PSYMON: Yeah? Well I don't think I like skanky women with blonde hair.
ELISE: (She glares at him.) You'd best watch that mouth of yours, Stark. I'm warning you.
PSYMON: Yeah? Or what?
ELISE: Or you'll regret it. That's what.
PSYMON: (snorts)
ELISE: (She clears her throat, switching to a somewhat more pleasant tone.) Oh come on, Psy, lighten up. What's this all about?
PSYMON: I already told you, it's none of your damn business.
ELISE: How about I make it my business, then?
PSYMON: Christ, woman, what part of no don't you understand?
ELISE: I have selective hearing.
PSYMON: No kiddin'? Ah, whatever. It doesn't matter. I ain't tellin' you jack. What's happening here is strictly between me, Moby and that random dude in the red car down there.
ELISE: (She smirks.) You and Moby, huh? That's a bit shocking, although I guess it makes sense when you think about it. You two have a lot in common. And I've got admit, I have heard of stranger couples-
PSYMON: Shut up, you dirty bitch! I ain't no homo!
ELISE: Oh? Then what were you referring to?
PSYMON: The plan.
ELISE: Plan?
PSYMON: Yeah. Moby and I devised it together.
ELISE: What kind of plan?
PSYMON: A diabolical one.
ELISE: (eye roll) Oh, I don't doubt that for one minute. I would expect anything you dream up to be nothing short of diabolical. Same goes with Moby. Like I said, you guys have a lot in common.
PSYMON: Not really. In fact, just about the only thing we have in common is our undying hatred for a certain local DJ.
ELISE: You mean Mac.
PSYMON: Who else would I be talking about?
ELISE: Hmm. So I assume that this "plan" of yours has something to do with getting revenge on Mac.
PSYMON: (He shakes a fist.) I despise that kid! Who does he think he is, going around acting like he's king of the freakin' mountain? More than anything, though… (He trails off, staring into the distance with a furious look in his eyes.)
ELISE: More than anything?
PSYMON: (He stands for emphasis.) Who does that little punk think he is, sleeping around with Zoe? My girl?! I mean, just because Allegra is obviously with Viggo now doesn't mean he has to go and-
ELISE: Whoa! (She holds up both her hands.) Hang on a minute! Rewind! Mac slept with Zoe?
PSYMON: He sure did, and I'm pissed as all fucking hell about it.
ELISE: Ugh. I see. Well-
PSYMON: There ain't nothin' else to be said. He's a worthless piece of shit and he needs to be taught a lesson. Moby agrees. He's hated Mac for as long as he's known him.
ELISE: So...you guys decided to band together and think of a way to get back at him?
PSYMON: Pretty much, yeah. And let me just say that if our hit-man ends up actually murdering him… (He chuckles.) Well, I won't be too terribly upset. I don't think I know anybody who will be, really.
ELISE: (She gapes at him for a short moment in astonishment, then begins walking quickly toward the building's fire escape ladder.)
PSYMON: Hey! Where do you think you're goin'?!
ELISE: Urgent business! Later, Psy!
PSYMON: (He watches her descend the ladder, shaking his head all the while.) How the hell did she even know I was up here? (He stares into space, pondering for a moment, then shrugs and returns to his post.)