INT. BROADWAY THEATER – NIGHT

Nathan is panicking and pacing. Most of the actors are in costume. But some of the cast is still missing. Lucy sits nervously on the sidelines with Ace.

NATHAN: Half hour till showtime – where is my Christine? And my Phantom -.

LUCY: Nathan, don't worry! I'm the understudy, remember? I can be in costume in five minutes!

NATHAN: Mr. DeLaouritz is already here! Shit!

They see a posse of celebrity actors and producers, led by MR. GAEL DELAOURITZ – he wears a purple suit with a purple beanie hat and purple glasses with a purple ascot. He sits down at the front row, cell phone to his hear, talking on it, ignoring everything going on around him.

NATHAN: He doesn't look happy …

LUCY: Nathan … put me in the show! You can trust me! I won't let you down.

NATHAN: (barely listening) Would you get me a coffee. Caffeinated? Lots and lots of caffeine!

Lucy looks at Ace who shrugs. Her lip trembles – she turns and storms offstage.

At the far end, Kirby and Nicholette rush in. Nathan is pulling his hair out.

NICHOLETTE: Sorry we're late … I … erm … just broke up with my boyfriend!

NATHAN: I don't care if the portals to the abyss just opened in your hotel room and Cthulhu himself appeared and bathed you in his maddening glory – get your ass into costume! NOW! And where is that replacement for Chantelle?

Nicholette sheepishly looks at Kirby and nods, before racing backstage. Kirby joins Ace who's sucking on a slurpee.

ACE: That should be me on stage, girl, you know that.

KIRBY: Hey, if Nicky were any later, Nathan would've probably stuffed you in a dress and strutted you onstage.

ACE: (sipping his slurpee) Wouldn't have been the first time …

CUT TO:

INT. NATHAN'S OFFICE – NIGHT

Nathan fumbles in his desk. He grabs a bottle of whiskey, takes a long swig. He sighs, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand before opening a desk drawer and rummaging through it.

NATHAN: Okay Nathan, keep it together. It's only Mr. DeLaouritz, famed worldwide producer here to scope out your work. No pressure, don't lose your head. Ah!

He finds what he's looking for – a copy of the score. He pulls out a pen and signs the front page. To Gael – Des dieux et des monstres. - Nate

He smiles as he places the score under his arm. He turns to exit his office, opens the door - -

GHOSTFACE IS THERE WITH AN AXE, BURYING IT DEEP INTO HIS SKULL!

INT. DJ'S WINNEBAGO – NIGHT

Amber lies on a couch as DJ furiously types away on a computer.

AMBER: Stilly trying to decrypt that employee manifest?

DJ: Almost done. I think … yes, that's it!

AMBER: (sitting up) You decrypted it?

DJ: Nope. Just downloaded Super Mario 64 from Steam. Classic, classic game –

AMBER: DJ! The manifest!

DJ: Oh, I decrypted that long ago.

AMBER: And you haven't even looked at it?

DJ: (rubbing the back of his head) I may have accidentally deleted it …

AMBER: … you're unbelievable!

DJ: But that's okay! Because I was able to reboot the system and restore its settings to before this morning. Once it's done reuploading the files, it'll send the doc straight to my phone and we'll have a full, untampered employee manifest from the museum. And boom – we'll have our killer!

His cell phone rings. Amber jumps.

AMBER: Don't answer it!

DJ: (picking it up) Relax, it's my Dad. (answering) Yo Dad!

DEWEY: Where are you?!

DJ: In my Winnebago, where else?

DEWEY: Are you safe?

DJ: Yeah … I mean as safe as you can be when you're from Woodsboro with a killer on the loose. Everything okay, Dad?

DEWEY: You don't know?

DJ: Dad, you're scaring me. More than usual. And trust me, I know fear. Gale Weathers is my Mom!

DEWEY: The killer struck.

DJ: Who?

DEWEY: Jill.

DJ: (relief) Oh. Well good –

DEWEY: Dwight Junior!

DJ: Hey, who gives a shit about Jill Roberts?

DEWEY: Because he's going after everyone Jill was ever friends with! Including your cousin!

DJ: Nicky – oh shit! Where are you and Mom?

DEWEY: We're stuck in traffic. For some reason, there's a jam going into the Lincoln Tunnel worse than usual. Billy's stuck in it too. We're not moving, haven't moved for an hour.

DJ: Well we gotta get to Nicky! Where's Aunt Tatum?

DEWEY: Over at Joni's. That's why I called. I need you to get Aunt Tatum and find someway to get her into New York!

DJ: Okay, okay! But uh … it may not be so easy to get her from Joni's.

DEWEY: What do you mean?

DJ: Hello? Have you and Mom not noticed? Joni's becoming unhinged. She's got this like … weird fixation on Aunt Tatum like she's in love with her or something, she doesn't want her to leave her house!

DEWEY: (beat) Shit, you don't think …?

DJ: That Joni's one of the killers? Uh, I've been thinking that from the start!

DEWEY: Then don't go there! Stay away from Joni's and get yourself and Amber somewhere safe!

DJ: Oh, sorry Dad. Bad reception. Can't hear that last part. Just hearing static -.

DEWEY: Dwight Junior, if you hang up on me …

DJ: I love you too, Dad. See ya!

He hangs up and turns to Amber.

DJ: Welp, we gotta rescue Aunt Tatum from Joni. Then we gotta go collect Nicky from New York.

AMBER: Okay, how are we getting into the city? You heard your Dad, traffic's backed up for hours. That's time we don't have!

DJ: (snaps his fingers) I got it! Weehawken!

AMBER: We-what-now?

DJ: It's a town along the Hudson Terminal. They got a pretty gnarly ferry system. We go, catch a ferry to Midtown, hail a cab, get Nicky and get her somewhere safe.

AMBER: That could still take hours!

DJ: Better than sitting for hours in traffic to nowhere! Come on, Joni's first!

INT. NYC UBER CAR– NIGHT

Chris is on the phone as he hops into an Uber car. The Uber driver stares forward and Chris talks to the back of his head as though he barely exists.

CHRIS: Broadway – and step on it!

The driver nods and pulls the Uber into the roadway. Chris listens to the ringtone on the other end and it goes to Nathan's voicemail.

CHRIS: Nathan – it's me! Sorry I'm late. I'll be there asap! I just hope Mr. DeLaouritz is in a good mood. See ya!

He hangs up and nods to the driver.

CHRIS: Hey buddy, you want to step on it? I'm running late.

The driver nods, turning down a side road. Chris is playing on his phone, not paying attention. His phone RINGS! The Caller-ID says NATHAN. He answers.

CHRIS: Hey Nathan, sorry again I'm late. On my way right now, I'll get there one way or another -

GHOSTFACE: Heh, interesting choice of words. Because only some of you will make it there!

CHRIS: Nathan?

GHOSTFACE: You wish.

CHRIS: Okay, if you're not Nathan then who are you?

GHOSTFACE: You really have no idea what's going on, do you? Haven't you checked your text messages?

CHRIS: I haven't even had time to brush my teeth. What's this about?

GHOSTFACE: Tell me … have you heard from your best buddy Mikey lately?

CHRIS: Mikey? No, he's in jail. Did something happen to him?

GHOSTFACE: Besides missing a large chunk of his neck? No, he's in one piece. More or less. He lost my game, which means you lose as well!

CHRIS: Oh really? Is that a threat?

GHOSTFACE: A promise.

CHRIS: Yeah, well good luck getting to me! In case you haven't noticed, I'm in the Big City, in an Uber, with cameras and cops everywhere. So you can take your empty threats and shove them!

GHOSTFACE: Oh Christopher, it's so ridiculously easy to get to someone, you wouldn't even believe it. Especially when that person comes to me.

CHRIS: What the hell are you talking about?

GHOSTFACE: What's amazing is the amount of trust we place in technology. And in other people these days. You can order from DoorDash and have food delivered right to your doorstep. But who's on the other end? Can you really trust the person coming to your house? And now they know your address. They have your phone number. They know everything about you.

Chris looks out the window. He realizes that the cab is going the wrong way – he gets frantic. He tries to open the door – the child locks are on. He's trapped!

In front, the Uber driver reaches forward with his right hand, opens his glove compartment.

GHOSTFACE: You can have a car pull up to your house at the touch of a button, go anywhere as easy as 1, 2, 3. But can you ever really trust the driver?

Chris is getting more frantic. He yells to the driver.

CHRIS: Hey! HEY! Let me the fuck outta here!

The driver grabs something from the glove compartment. He spins his wheel, turning down a dark alley. Chris is banging on the windows with one arm, trying to smash it open. He watches as the car comes to a stop in an abandoned alley. The driver sits there, staring ahead.

GHOSTFACE: So I guess the question is – can you ever really trust anyone, Chris? Should Billy have trusted Sidney? Should Tatum have trusted Desirae or her stepfather John? Should dear little Nicky have trusted Jenny? And you Chris – your fatal mistake – should you have trusted your castmates?

The driver slides the item he grabbed from the compartment over his head – a GHOSTFACE mask! He spins around, raises a buck hunting knife as Chris raises his hands in defense, screaming.

ANGLE ON:

EXT. ALLEY – NIGHT

We see the uber car from the outside, Chris struggling as Ghostface SLASHES down again and again. The car rocks violently in their struggle, as blood splatters onto the windows.