EXT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - EVENING
Kyle stands at the front of the building looking through the grimy glass and into the darkness beyond.
He holds up a hand to knock, but, on a whim, he tries the door.
It opens.
INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - FRONT
Kyle edges through the door, wheeling his carry-on behind him.
The door closes behind him, leaving him in the gloomy darkness of a business long past its prime.
KYLE: Hello?
INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - MAIN FLOOR
He moves past the empty desks, the wheels of his bag skittering on the various debris that litters the floor.
A RUSTLING further in the back causes him to stop.
He heads forward again, a little slower.
INT. THE SOUTH PARK DAILY - ARCHIVE ROOM
Rows of shelves fill the dark room.
Kyle walks the rows, peering down them - he heads down a row.
A box flies off the shelf at him!
He jumps back as it hits the floor!
He looks up in time to see a flash of what looks like an orange parka in the row next to him.
KYLE: I'm not playing fucking games here!
Kyle moves quickly back down the row, then heads along the bookshelves, looking down row after row.
He's barely catching a glimpse of the orange parka on the other end, also running past row after row.
Then he catches a glimpse of it going the other way.
He spins around and - BAM!
Kyle slams hard into somebody -
KYLE: Oh shit!
