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Under the Main Street Bridge is a wall of graffiti. A massive train chugs past and its last car rumbles out of the way to reveal Jack Harkness. Rugged. Strong. An old sleeping bag and a pack of tools on his back. He's been riding the rails for a while. He is currently striding across the tracks. A big man. Proud. His eyes squinting at the sun as he leaves the Los Angeles train tracks to walk along a street past the train yard - toward the skyscrapers of downtown Los Angeles.
A loud thumping sound in the sky grabs his attention and he glances up. A police helicopter drifts past downtown buildings as Jack walks over a hill, down toward the canyons of skyscrapers below …
like a man descending down into hell ...
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STATE UNEMPLOYMENT OFFICE
Jack enters the massive Unemployment office. He checks the board for job listings. Finds none. Then he looks over ... a packed house. The mass of unemployed sit waiting for job interviews, filling out endless forms. Some with famliles. Faces of every colour, desperate for a job.
Jack is eventually being interviewed. She sleepwalks through this interview times today as she does every day, she has conducted this same interview for weeks. Already, she hates her job. "Last place of employment?"
"Denver, Colorado. I worked there for 10 years. Then things just seemed to dry up. They lost 14 banks in one week." Jack grimaced and she Interviewer shoots him a sleepy glance as he continues "So ... well, I heard there was work in California. I tried San Diego. Nothin' there. Now I've come to L.A."
The Female Interviewer writes offhandedly. Jack can tell he's blowing it - bad.
"There's nothing available for you right now . . ." she mutters as she looks past him to the next person outside the door, already dismissing him.
"Well at least it's warmer out here." Jack grins, and then sighs "Thank you very much."
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Jack strolls into a city park. A homeless man sleeps on a park bench. Yuppies on their lunch break sit on the grass eating take-out sushi. Nearby lies a homeless man sprawled as if dead. The Secretaries pay no attention.
A police car cruises slowly past the park... a Ventura War Veteran sits dazedly, staring off into the distance as 2 expensively dressed yuppie style lawyer types walk briskly along, chatting, oblivious to a bum lying in the street at their feet.
A street preacher holds court. A small crowd has gathered around him "They have taken the hearts and minds of our leaders ... They have recruited the rich and the powerful . .."
Jack moves closer now, up to the rear of the small crowd The Street Preacher is black. And blind. It looks as if his eyelids have been sewn shut over empty sockets. He is impassioned "They have blinded us from the truth. Our human spirit has been corrupted. Why do we worship greed? Why, when we say "family values", do we mean censorship?"
A skinhead in his 20's, shaved head, olive drab army fatigues, swastika pins and combat boots, seethes nearby, then yells "Go back to Africa!"
The Street Preacher reacts "Why is it acceptable in America to be racist?"
A black man yells at the Skinhead "Hey pig! Get outa here!"
The Skinhead and the Black Man begin a scuffle. A few punches are thrown, but nothing serious.
The Street Preacher continues to talk like nothing is happening "Because outside the limits of our sight - feeding on us - perched on top of us from birth to death - are our owners! They are all around us - right now! Right beside us!"
The crowd's loving it, as Jack glances over and sees that the police car has stopped. Two cops get out, come this way. Now the crowd around Jack begins moving away fast. As the cops pull their nightsticks Jack moves away too, along with the flow, glancing back over his shoulder. As the Cops break up the scuffle, rousting the antagonists a woman leads the Street Preacher away to safety.
A black kid about 18, stands in front of an appliance store staring at TV sets on the other side of a display window. All the sets are tuned to the same station: Cable 54. You can clearly see the Cable 54 logo. Images of happy Americans rejoicing, jumping up in the air and slapping hands in slow motion while you can hear pulsing, electronic music.
The announcer is droning on "America wants straight talk. We need the truth. We know who we are and what we believe in. And Cable 54 is All American.
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Jack walks past, across a dark intersection after dusk and soon he is tucked away against a retaining wall on a vacant lot. Other homeless around him. His sleeping bag spread out, he stares into the darkness at the world moving around him.
In the distance through the window of a nearby brownstone he can see an elderly sitting motionless watching TV. On the screen a pretty girl is gushing dreamily, accompanied by melodramatic music. "Sometimes when I watch TV I stop being myself. I'm the star of a series. I have my own talk show. Or maybe I'm on the news , getting out of a limousine … going someplace important. All I ever have to be is famous . People watch me and love me. I never grow old. I never die."
Jack looks away, glances up to watch a police helicopter moving by overhead.
He settles to try and get some sleep.
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Another sunny day in the city. A construction site is bustling. Men are at work. Happy in the bright sunlight . A condo or apartment building is in the middle of growth with some heavy machinery rumbling around. Jack walks across the site, up to the Foreman, a grim sunburned man in his 50's
"You need anybody?" Jack calls out as he tries not to sound desperate.
A beat, as the Foreman looks Jack over "Maybe"
Jack adds "I got my own tools."
The Foreman barks "This is a union Job."
Jack glances over at several workers nearby. "So then may I please talk to the shop steward?"
The Foreman just looks at him.
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Now Jack is working.
He carries heavy stuff. Digs. Sweats in the sun. John, 30's, handsome, lithe, works nearby. He looks up and over at Jack ... Jack looks back. They exchange glances.
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Then suddenly it's the end of the day. Workers leaving. Sun getting lower in the sky. The Foreman stops as Jack loads his tools into his bag "There's no sleepin' at the site …so park your arse someplace else for the night ."
The Foreman turns to walk away. Jack calls after him "Excuse me"
The Foreman turns back to Jack and Jack adds "Then when do I get paid?"
"Thursday." Comes the brisk reply.
Although he doesn't like it much, Jack Just watches as the Foreman strolls off ... Now John comes up "need a place to stay?"
Jack doesn't reply. He continues packing up his tools.
"John Hart, we've met? I feel like I know you." John asks, then shrugs when Jack does not answer "There is a good place nearby, they provide food and showers."
Beat. No reply.
John tries again "I'm goin' that way want me to show you. If you…"
Jack gives no answer. John shrugs, moves on .
John walks along the street. A block behind him comes Jack, following. John turns, notices him, but keeps walking. Now Jack is just a few car lengths behind John. Finally John stops. Waits for Jack to catch up "I don't like nobody following me 'less I know why."
"I don't join up with nobody - - 'til I see where he's going" Jack replies.
They stare at each other for a beat. Then John grins, yeah.
They've met before.