TEASER
Lake Stevens, Washington
EXT. THE BREW - AFTERNOON
The Brew, a small quaint cafe, sits on the corner of a small downtown street.
Through the window, Julia, a girl with pink hair and black Judas Priest t-shirt and faded ripped jeans, sits at a table, typing away at her laptop.
Across from her sits her friend Tristan, a local boy in a plaid shirt and jeans.
INT. THE BREW - CONTINUOUS
Tristan looks at the "D-" on his recent English Critique paper, frustrated and weary.
TRISTAN: Frickin' Howell, man. I don't get him or his effed-up grading system. I swear he gets a hard-on every time he hands out F's.
Julia continues typing at her laptop, oblivious to the world around her.
TRISTAN : (noticing Julia's inattentive)I did everything he said in that stupid lecture. So, either I'm doing something wrong, or he doesn't know how to fucking teach. I'm leaning toward the latter.
Julia doesn't look up from her laptop.
Tristan stares at her, waiting for some response.
TRISTAN: Did you even hear a word I said?
JULIA: (still glued to her screen) Talking about hard-ons. Yeah.
TRISTAN: I'm talking about Howell and how he's constantly screwing me. I've been talking for the past five minutes.
Julia doesn't respond.
TRISTAN: What are you doing?
Tristan switches seats, now sitting beside Julia. He can see her laptop screen over her shoulder.
Julia is chatting online on Discord.
TRISTAN: The Panda Cult. Why am I not surprised?
Julia ignores him and continues chatting. She posts a question. Didn't Panda say he would be on Twitch last night?
TRISTAN: Your obsession with this guy is quite remarkable and somewhat alarming.
JULIA: Shut up, Tristan. This is serious.
Someone replies. Yeah, it's weird. I waited for over an hour.
TRISTAN: And I agree with you. Do I need to be concerned, Jules?
JULIA: Make fun all you want, but last night Panda said he would do a Twitch stream. I was on Twitch last night, he wasn't.
Julia replies. This isn't like him. If something came up, he would have let us know.
TRISTAN: He's a busy student like all of us. He probably got tied up with projects. It is getting close to Finals.
JULIA: I doubt that.
She continues typing.
Tristan grabs her hand.
TRISTAN: Jules, give the guy some space to breathe before you send out the Amber Alert.
Julia snatches back her hand.
JULIA: I'm telling ya. Something's up.
Julia stares back at her screen, waiting for another reply.
Arlington, WA
EXT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - EARLY MORNING
A beige 2007 Buick Lucerne pulls into the parking lot of the Arlington local USPS Office.
The Buick parks a few feet away from the Post Office entrance.
Several squad cars surround the entrance, lights flashing.
The Buick driverside door opens. Justin Walsh, 45 in shirt and tie with a police badge dangling from his neck, steps out of the car. Eyes are bloodshot, needing sleep, on a no-nonsense demeanor.
Walsh shuts the car door and makes his way toward the entrance.
A couple of officers are outside the entrance, closing off the scene. The glass of one of the entrance doors is completely shattered. One of the officers standing outside sees Walsh and approaches.
WALSH: This had better be something worth getting out of bed for at 4 a.m.
OFFICER: To be honest, I don't know what to call this.
Walsh and the officer walked toward the entrance.
OFFICER: Forced entrance. Possibly two suspects. Manager's inside getting security footage. Witness is inside too, badly shaken up.
WALSH: Who is she?
OFFICER: Post Office Clerk, mid-50s. She works in the Post Office Box department.
WALSH: Somebody rob a P.O. Box?
OFFICER: Like I said, I don't know what to call this...
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
The officer from outside walks toward the witness with a hot cup of tea in hand.
The witness, still in her uniform, sits still in her chair, her face petrified.
Det. Walsh sits across from her in a roll-away chair from a desk.
The officer sets the cup of tea next to the witness.
The witness nods gratefully.
The officer then leaves to resume his post, leaving Walsh with the witness.
WALSH: Just take your time.
WITNESS: It all happened so fast...
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - NIGHT [FLASHBACK]
The witness is working alone in the back room of the Post Office, sorting through stacks of mail.
WITNESS (V.O.): They always ask me why I considered working the late shifts. I liked it because it was quiet. No hassle to get things done. And I could work alone.
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Tears began to well up in the witness's eyes.
WITNESS: My husband and I have been here for almost 25 years. So far nothing horrific has happened to either one of us.
Walsh maintains eye contact while reaching behind him for a box of tissues. He grabs it and sets it down by the witness.
WALSH: Can you remember what time it was when the suspects broke through the entrance doors?
The witness nods as a tear rolls down her cheek.
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - NIGHT [FLASHBACK]
The clerk finishes sorting through the mail.
The clock on the wall reads 11 p.m.
WITNESS (V.O.):I can't remember the time, but it was right in the middle of my shift when it happened.
The shattering of glass is faintly heard beyond the front desk.
The clerk walks toward the noise.
She draws closer to the front desk.
WITNESS: Hello? Is someone there?
One of the suspects appears in her view.
The glass that once was framed in the door itself is now in pieces on the floor.
The suspect walks over shattered glass laying in from the entrance door.
The clerk's heart nearly leaps out of her chest.
WITNESS: That's when I saw him.
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
The clerk stared off into the distance, as if in a daze.
WITNESS: It was the most horrid thing I saw.
WALSH: Just take your time. What did he look like?
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS [FLASHBACK]
The suspect walks to the front desk.
WITNESS (V.O.): He was wearing all black: a leatherjacket, pants, and shirt. He had leather gloves and a...mask...He pulls out a gun, holding it at his side.
The clerk watched in horror as he approached.
WALSH (V.O.): Like a ski mask?
WITNESS (V.O.): No, like a hideous...clown mask.
The suspect stops right in front of the front desk, staring the clerk down through the clown mask.
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Walsh sits there puzzled. Clown Mask?
The clerk takes a slow sip of tea, trying her best not to shake. Her eyes glazed over with fear.
WITNESS: He gave me this.
The clerk picks up a crumbled index card with P.O. Box address written in permanent marker.
She hands it to Walsh.
Walsh examines the address.
WALSH: What did they want?
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS [FLASHBACK]
The suspect lays the gun on the front desk, pointing the barrel at the clerk.
He reaches into his back pocket and retrieves the index card with the address.
SUSPECT: I wanna know whose P.O. Box this is.
He lays it down next to the gun.
SUSPECT: You're gonna get on your little computer and do whatever the hell it is you do to get me that name and where they live.
The clerk tries to muster words. She feels around the bottom of the front desk for the Panic Button. But she can't feel it.
WITNESS: I...I can't do that. There...are laws.
The suspect bellows a low groan beneath his mask.
The clerk glances to the other side of the front desk. The panic button is there in the corner.
Another suspect, similarly dressed, walks through the shattered door, crunching the glass under his feet.
SUSPECT: Lady, do I look like I care about laws?
The other suspect joins the first suspect at the front desk.
The clerk's breath shutters.
SUSPECT: Now, I asked for a name and an address of residence. I won't ask again.
WALSH (V.O.): Did you give them a name?
CUT TO:
INT. ARLINGTON LOCAL USPS OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
The traumatized clerk snaps out of her gaze and looks at the detective. Tears well in her eyes.
Det. Walsh waits patiently for a response.
The clerk nods.
CUT TO:
INT. USPS BACK OFFICE - CONTINUOUS
Det. Walsh walks into the back office, joining another detective and officer around a computer screen.
The other detective, DESIREE FULCRUM (late 30s), is a street-smart girl whose not afraid to prove her worth.
FULCRUM: Was our witness helpful?
WALSH: Yeah.
FULCRUM: What did these guys want?
WALSH: A name and address. So, this wasn't a robbery.
FULCRUM: For somebody in trauma, she was helpful. At least, we're on the right track. Manager's pulling up security feed. You're just in time.
The manager plays up the security feed from last on the screen.
In the video, the glass of the entrance door is shattered with a sledgehammer. The first suspect enters.
FULCRUM: Freeze that.
The manager pauses the video.
The detectives examine the freeze-frame.
FULCRUM: Is that a...?
WALSH: Clown mask.
FULCRUM: A very ugly clown mask.
WALSH: Just like she said. (to the manager) Speed forward.
The video is sped up. The detectives see the suspect enter and approach the front desk. They watch as the suspect places the gun on the counter along with the index card.
WALSH: There.
The video pauses.
The detective holds up the index card to Fulcrum
WALSH: Can we get the name of this P.O. Box owner?
FULCRUM: Don't we need paperwork for that?
WALSH: How long will that take?
FULCRUM: I'll make a call.
Det. Fulcrum takes the card and pulls out her phone, walking outside.
WALSH: Tell them it's urgent.
FULCRUM: Right. Because that always speeds things right along.
Det. Walsh stares back at the computer screen, scrutinizing the masked suspect.
INT. ARLINGTON POLICE STATION - AFTERNOON
Det. Walsh holds a cropped photo of the suspects in hand, seated at his desk. He examines the mask, height, and apparel of the suspect.
Det. Fulcrum passes by and slaps papers down on his desk.
FULCRUM: You're in luck. Apparently, saying it's urgent really did move things along.
WALSH: "Ye of little faith."
FULCRUM: I think we might have struck gold with this one. Got a Missing Person's Report today. A kid by the name of Jay Morton was reported missing by his parents. They haven't seen him for two days. He was supposed to be home from college for the weekend.
WALSH: Maybe he took a detour. Went to see a girlfriend?
FULCRUM: Parents claim that's unlikely.
WALSH: What's this got to do with the P.O. Box owner?
FULCRUM: The name registered to the P.O. Box is Jay Morton.
INT. JULIA'S BEDROOM - LATER
Julia lays on her bed with books and notebooks open. Her laptop is on sitting at the foot of her bed, as she working on a research paper rough draft.
The television plays in the background. The show on the television is interrupted.
ANCHOR: (on the television) We interrupt this program for a quick news report. A college student by the name of Jay Morton is missing. Julia snaps her head toward the television.
JULIA: What?!
ANCHOR: Many will recognize Jay from his online persona. On TikTok, he goes the name Pandaredd, delivering videos of comedic skits based on various DC Comic characters, with special emphasis on the superhero Batman.
The news plays a clip of Pandaredd's video. In the clip, Jay stands in front of his camera phone dressed in a black suit coat.
PANDAREDD:(acting as Bruce Wayne) "So, real genuine question. Um, do any of you actually know what a stakeout...is?"
Julia rushes to her laptop and pulls up Discord.
She types on the message board: Guys! Pandaredd is missing!
ANCHOR: Jay was last seen leaving his apartment Friday afternoon. He has been missing for 48 hours.
Julia gets a reply. The fuck do you mean by "missing"?
EXT. THE MORTON'S HOUSE - LATER
The Detectives pull up out in front of Morton's residents. A quiet suburbia neighborhood, not much activity from neighbors.
They get out of one car and stand on the sidewalk.
FULCRUM: Neither of his parents is home. They're gonna be gone for much of the day.
WALSH: Alright, let's talk to some neighbors. See if they saw anything, heard anything...
FULCRUM: How about the one on the left?
WALSH: They home?
Fulcrum looks over and sees a man (mid-60s), wearing a navy blue t-shirt with the American flag on the front with the sleeves rip, out on his front porch, drinking beer. He wears a Vietnam Veterans hat.
FULCRUM: I'd say he is.
The detectives walk over to the neighborhood's house.
As the detectives approach his porch, the man sets his beer down.
NEIGHBOR: You police?
WALSH: Yes, sir. This is Det. Fulcrum. And I'm Det. Walsh. We're from the APD.
NEIGHBOR: You're here about that Morton Kid, aren't ya?
FULCRUM: Yeah, we are. Can you tell us anything?
NEIGHBOR: Like what?
FULCRUM: Well, maybe you saw something strange, or out of the ordinary.
NEIGHBOR: I've seen a lot of strange things in my life.
WALSH: Any of them happen at the house next door?
NEIGHBOR: It happened all over the neighborhood. Didn't you all see that strange thing in the sky a few nights ago?
FULCRUM: The lights.
WALSH: I never saw that. Heard about it.
FULCRUM: You never saw it? It was the coolest thing ever.
WALSH: It was really late. I was tired.
NEIGHBOR: That was the last night I saw that kid. He was out here with the rest of us, checking it out.
CUT TO:
EXT. THE MORTON'S HOUSE - NIGHT - FLASHBACK
Jay walks outside his house, going to the center of the front yard. His eyes fixed on the sky.
Stretching across the sky, he sees a stream of a strange cosmic polar light-like phenomenon.
Jay finds himself staring at it.
NEIGHBOR: Strange, ain't it?
JAY: (snapping out of his trance) Yeah.
NEIGHBOR: I bet those NASA geeks are spinning their wheels right about now. Wonder how they'll explain this one. Of course, they'll never tell us the truth. Aliens?
JAY: I don't know.
NEIGHBOR: Part of me doesn't want to be around to find out.
His neighbor leaves, going back into his house.
CUT TO:
EXT. NEIGHBOR'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS
Walsh stands there trying to piece the two events together.
Fulcrum gets a call on her cell phone.
WALSH: So, what? This strange thing had something to do with Jay going missing.
NEIGHBOR: Nah! But that was the last time I saw the kid's face. Never really interacted much with his family until then. Really wish I had.
Fulcrum hangs up her phone.
FULCRUM: That's very helpful, sir. Thank you. (to Walsh) We have to go.
The detective walks away.
NEIGHBOR: Hope you find him.
The detective approaches the car.
FULCRUM: Chief called up back to the precinct.
WALSH: Did he say why?
FULCRUM: Said it's urgent.
WALSH: More urgent than an investigation?
They get into the car and drive away from the Morton residents.
INT. ARLINGTON POLICE STATION - AFTERNOON
Walsh and Fulcrum stride into the precinct toward their desks.
Chief of Police, Rafael Sanchez, talks with a man dressed in a black suit.
The Chief turns to the two detectives, catching a glimpse of them in the corner of his eye.
SANCHEZ: Walsh. Fulcrum. This is Agent Stone, FBI.
The man in the black suit turns, revealing the FBI shield worn on his belt.
FULCRUM: And what can we do for the FBI?
STONE: You're investigating a missing person by the name of Jay Morton, correct?
WALSH: Maybe.
STONE: The FBI has already seen the footage from the Post Office.
WALSH: Would love to know how you got ahold of that?
SANCHEZ: That was my call.
WALSH: Come again?
The agent holds up still frames of the suspects.
STONE: Two men broke into a federal building, masked, and all they took was a name and address. What do you know about Jay Morton?
FULCRUM: An art student home for vacation. Makes Tik Tok videos for fun.
STONE: We need to see if he's mixed up with any online terrorist groups.
WALSH: Terrorist groups? Don't you think that's a little out there, Agent?
STONE: These internet personas can be mixed up in anything. Al-Qaeda, ISIS, hell, even the mafia. Right now, it's just a hunch. But there's no telling whatthis kid's disappearance can lead to. We might uncover an entire cell network of who knows what. Do we have access to his computer?
FULCRUM: Not without a warrant?
STONE: Get one.
Agent Stone walks away.
STONE: And keep me in the loop.
The Chief starts back heading toward his office.
Walsh catches up with him.
WALSH: So we're taking orders from the FBI, all of a sudden?
SANCHEZ: It's a joint investigation, Justin.
WALSH: An investigation that's barely two days old. Come on, Chief. Al-Qaeda? Give me a break.
SANCHEZ The FBI wants to get a handle on this, fast. Once they've determined there's no connection to terrorists or whatever, they'll turn it back over to us.
WALSH: And what if they determine there is some kind of a connection.
SANCHEZ: Then it's out of our hands.
The chief goes back into his office, shutting the door.
Fulcrum approaches.
FULCRUM: Guess we can kiss this one goodbye, huh?
WALSH: It just doesn't make sense.
FULCRUM: The case or the FBI?
WALSH: None of it. Jay's just an art student. He makes videos talking about comic books.
FULCRUM: These internet types always look innocent. Then you pull back the curtain and find all kinds of shady things going on behind the scenes.
WALSH: I don't know, Dez.
CUT TO:
INT. ABANDONED WAREHOUSE IN GOTHEM - NIGHT
Footstep clap against the concrete floor.
Jay Morton, aka Pandaredd, is tied up and gagged in a chair in the middle of a darkened old rustic warehouse.
A single overhead light shines down on Jay.
WALSH (V.O.):What kind of messed-up shit can a kid like Jay be mixed up in?
Shoes suddenly appear in the light, as a man dressed in a purple suit, wearing clown make-up, steps into the light.
THE JOKER.
JOKER: You know something, Dorothy. I don't think you're in Kansas anymore.
The Joker breaks out into a shrilling chilling high pitched laughter. The laugh chills Jay to the bone as he looks back at the Joker in horror.
TO BE CONTINUED...