Make it stand out

NEPOTISM
(A City Guide To)

Episode 1: “PARKMOEBILE”

Scene 1: The Children’s Home System (CHS Office)
EXT. CHILDREN’S SYSTEM – MORNING
The metallic hum of the city fills the air as people shuffle into the building. Outside the dome, gray skies loom over the distant ruins, but inside, the air is controlled and sterile. CANDY approaches the entrance, adjusting her bag and sighing at the sight of a long line of people waiting to get scanned.
The door is guarded by TEVO BOTS—sleek, humanoid machines with glowing blue eyes. It’s "Bring Your Robot to Work Day" at the office, and each bot has a badge with its owner's name taped to its chest.
Candy steps forward, groaning as the scanner whirs to life and beams a bright red light over her.

TEVO BOT 1
"Employee Candy Jones. PCode - ENTJ-A Caseworker, Level 1. No contraband detected. Social Score: Marginal."

CANDY
(mocking, under her breath)
"Yeah, yeah. Y’all know times is tight right now, right? I’m working on it."
(for real?) I had no idea I had a ticket, Officer... Sir. I’ll work on it.

TEVO BOT 1
"Attitude detected. Get your personality in order now. You are in violation of the Model Citizen Program. Four points have been deducted from your account. Log in to view details and pay violation. Social Score: Marginal."
(Candy glares at them but says nothing as she walks into the building.)

TEVO BOT 2
"Ah, Candy Jones. You have an outstanding parking ticket on file. Would you like to use your social score to pay today?"

CANDY
(under her breath) "No."

TEVO BOT 2
"Voice not recognized. Please for clarity."

CANDY
(much sterner) "No! I don’t have it. I said I’m working on it."
(Candy begins to walk through the security checkpoint and enter the Children’s Society Office.)

TEVO BOT 2
(quietly, to Bot 1)
"Mmm. She doesn’t even have a robot. That’s... sad."

(both bots looking at one another, shaking their heads after watching Candy enter and pass by)

TEVO BOT 1
“The humans have a persistent disdain for efficiency."

TEVO BOT 2
(smirking, adjusting its badge)
"And they obsess over ancient fiction. Like those old Terminator and RoboCop movies about them being 'justice machines.' Always exaggerating. Primitive, yet oddly fascinating."

TEVO BOT 1
(slightly defensive)
“We’ve reviewed the historical data. Unfortunately, they lacked optimization."

TEVO BOT 2
"And relied on human decisions more than computational logic."

INT. CHILDREN’S SOCIETY OFFICE – CONTINUOUS
The office is its usual mess: phones ringing, stacks of papers teetering on desks, and a faint, unidentifiable smell hanging in the air. A faded "Forever Families, Forever Hope" poster is taped to the wall, its corner peeling.
Candy routinely comes in early before everyone. She usually straightens up the breakroom and disposes of food and drinks left in the fridge from the previous day. Candy walks into the breakroom, looks in the refrigerator, and spots a sandwich. She takes the sandwich out and glances around to make sure no one is watching.

V.O. (CANDY)
“It’s not like I’m stealing. My uncle always said be early—especially if you’re hungry. Sometimes food just sits around. He also told me to volunteer to clean the office fridge. Folks are supposed to clear it daily, but they don’t. So it saves me a little money. I was supposed to clean this out yesterday. Whoever made this? Knows what they’re doing. Waste not, want not.”

CANDY
"71 dollars?"
(She takes the sandwich, setting it down at her workstation. Her phone buzzes—a reminder about a meeting she has in an hour. Candy takes a bite.)

CANDY
"Ugh. Dammit. This 70-some dollars and still ain’t no flavor…"

INT. ADMINISTRATOR MEL’S OFFICE AT CHS – SAME TIME
ADMINISTRATOR MEL (late 30s, loud, barefoot, and frazzled) is inside her office, door locked, giggling softly. The faint outline of a man’s figure is visible through the frosted glass, his low voice murmuring something unintelligible.
Mel’s shoes are kicked off in the corner, her desk a chaotic mess of papers and half-filled forms.
Candy glances over at Mel’s office door (closed) as the camera zooms in as the monologue enters.

V.O. (CANDY)
"That’s Mel. And the boss. She’s got me working on a lot of side stuff to support the agency… Like this video, it’s due today. She’s kinda like my play aunt but is mostly a walking HR violation in heels—she’s associated with every big-time contractor and official around the city. People always pointed out the fact she never really wore shoes in the office cause she was too busy probably taking them off. (giggling getting louder from behind the door) She was always helping someone chase the next big contract or the next big... (a very loud clunk on desk, and release) opportunity I guess. Useless fool. I guess I should be grateful for this job though. Wait?!? Did this bitch even go home last night? What the hell?

(From behind the door, it gets quiet, and all you hear is a zipper of pants, whispers, and phone messages going off back to back.)

ADMINISTRATOR MEL & FLIP
(giggling and laughing from behind a door)

CUT to INT. MAIN OFFICE FLOOR – CONTINUOUS
Well here’s where I work y’all. I got a great view of the city and I get to provide commands to one of the Tevo bots that’s here to protect us… They’re always giving us new bots, which is great... But see, I take karate, bitches. No one is messing with my kids. Nah, I’m just playing… Actually... I may be better off defending myself from them sometimes.

(Candy looks at the camera)
The code you see on our shirts, we’re required to wear it. It’s our personality code that helps everyone understand people better. We’re actually assigned work this way and for the most part, it’s peaceful. You get to work with “qualified” people that think and supposedly handle problems the same as you. Unfortunately, with the fall of governments, lobbyists just aren’t funded anymore to go after agencies like us, so they really don’t care honestly what we do. Funny how that worked...

(Candy looks at the camera with a smirk)
For several years, it’s been great to just instantly look at people that work here and understand a little bit about their personality before even speaking to them.
I’m a 20-something chick with a personality code ENTJ-A. That’s supposed to mean I’m some kind of “Commander,” but I just like to be ready and get things done, ya know. But still feels like a collar honestly with a slight dose of prejudice, when I forget to take it off for the day. These kids do be trying me sometimes. So I’m a social worker—well... actually I’m a Social Worker assistant. I help with all kinds of cases... Nah, I’m just kidding there as well... I actually do whatever my Aunt Mel asks me to do. She got me this gig and for the most part, I manage the activity room here and this is where it all begins.

(Candy’s attention is pulled away as SQUID (early 30s, stylish but with an air of guilt) approaches her desk, hands in his pockets. He hesitates for a moment before leaning on the edge of her workstation.)

SQUID
(softly)
"Hey, Candy. How you been?"

(Candy doesn’t look up from her screen, taking another bite of the sandwich she just “found.”)

CANDY
(sarcastic)
"Hi, Squid! You’re out early. What do I owe the pleasure?"

V.O. (CANDY)
“Mister Jason Moe. Developer, Dangerous, Determined.”
Squid was the kind of person that always had a reason to show up, though he’ll never admit it.
High-level in the city, with military combat training, some crazy clearances, and a memory full of missions we’re not supposed to know about. He’s been working in the new government and is always in between the lines. They say he’s done things… the kind you don’t come back from. But every time I try to connect the dots, it all disappears. Like nothing ever happened. Maybe it is nothing. Or maybe he’s just that good at cleaning up.
He’s smooth — real smooth. But not so smooth I don’t see through him.

(Squid shifts, a flicker of guilt crossing his face, but he brushes it off with a smile.)

CANDY
"Hi, Squid! You’re out early. What do I owe the pleasure?"

SQUID
"Hey you know I got your back… Came to support my girrrrrl. I can't wait to check it out… Hey, what's that smell?" (Squid turns up his nose to smell)

Candy glances up, finally making eye contact and smirks…
(Sensual/erotic noises are quietly murmured from behind the door. The quietness of the office bringing the soft whispers to a distinct volume.)

CANDY
(sincerely, but guarded)
"It may be my sandwich or... well seems I got her a little too early I guess." (glancing over at Mel’s office) "Anyway, how you doing!? How’s Will doing? He’s been back for like 2 weeks now and I ain’t heard from him."

Squid looks away, his smile faltering.

SQUID
"He’s... hanging in there. You know how he is. Just... doing his best since the accident and getting back and all."

CANDY
"Yeah, I’m just worried. That’s not like him. Tell that fool he better call me or I’m going to call Mr. Tevo 1 and 2" (looking at the bots) "to come look for him."

Candy nods, letting the subject drop, but there’s tension in the air. Squid fidgets and continues talking as Candy’s monologue begins, his usual voice in the background.

V.O. (CANDY)
"Will and Squid were brothers that lived a few doors down. Will and I walked to school every day and we literally had most of the same classes through school. Squid was a little older and graduated before us. He always liked me but it would have been weird with Will as my best friend, you know? It wouldn’t have worked out anyway... besides, I think he’s half crazy and he done dated some crazy chicks."

INT. OFFICE FLOOR – LATER
The door opens again, and COUNCILMEMBER CHARLES (early 30s, flamboyant, impeccably dressed) struts in, carrying a small thermos. His smile lights up the room, but there’s a sharpness in his gaze.

CHARLES
"Good morning, darlings! Where’s my favorite administrator? I brought her a little something to brighten her day."

Candy looks up from her desk, startled at first but quickly relaxes.

CANDY
"Oh hey, Councilmember Charles! I think she’s, um, a little busy. But you’re here mighty early. I can take it and give it to her when she’s out of her meeting. She probably doesn’t need any more distractions."

(A man from Mel’s office walks by fast, breathing heavily and straightening up his tie. Both Charles and Candy look at him weirdly.)

Charles sashays over to Candy’s desk, setting the thermos down with a dramatic flourish and notices stacks and stacks of folders.

CHARLES
(touching his chest)
"Oh, that’s what’s morning like around here, huh… figures as much."
(looking at a man walking out of Mel’s office)
"Oh, dear, this looks soooo stressful. You got it!"
(Candy shudders)
"Anyhoo, I’m here to cheer my favorite person up but looks like she’s already cheered up as usual. Anyway, please give it to her for me. Will you babe?"

CANDY
"Sure thing! I’ll get it right to her." (slowly glancing back and forth to Squid)

(Squid motions behind Charles’ back at Candy with drinking motions and silently laughs.)

CHARLES
"Sooooo… I heard that you had some trouble with parking tickets! You know you can call Charles, baby, if you need help, okay?"

SQUID
"Yep, we know. You know you can vote on better laws so it doesn’t even have to come to that, right? No parking ticket should be worth 300 dollars."

CHARLES
(looking at Candy with a smirk and hand secretly covering mouth to speak privately)
"Do I hear something? I had no idea someone was in our conversation… What does the innocent Mr. Moe want? Another favor?"

CANDY
"Guys, it’s too early for thi—"

SQUID
(looking smartly at Charles)
"You know... some things go both ways, Mr. Councilmember. It’s amazing how we forget... NO worries… say less… It’s all good."

CANDY
"Guys, the video presentation starts in an hour, so let’s take a chill, please. Councilmember, do you have anything else for Mel? I’m gonna need a few more minutes to get ready."

(Candy eyes the thermos suspiciously but doesn’t say anything. Charles winks and straightens his tie.)

CHARLES
"No, no, no... that’s fine. Outside of Mr. Moe’s obvious failure to understand—who the FUCK I am, I will personally make a phone call or two for you, not him."
(Squid shrugs shoulders to motion that it’s cool)
"You can count on Charles, baby… remember the name—Charles, bitches!"

SQUID
"Well alright, that’s my cue... I’ll see you in the meeting."
(Squid motions to Candy bye and looks Charles in the eye starkly, then exits the scene)

CANDY
"Okay, Squid! Please take it easy on me!" (Candy waves as Squid exits smiling)
"Thank God. I soooo appreciate it, Charles, you are the man! Crazy thing is I’m late bringing back a rental car this week and I’ve been paying more in parking fees than the car is even worth."

CHARLES
"Don’t worry... Big baby got you! That’s small! And if you talk to the bad bitch in there, tell her this is the special tea I promised her." (holding thermos up) "And do remind her that contracts don’t sign themselves..."
(He turns on his heel and saunters toward the door, blowing Candy a playful kiss as he leaves.)

(Charles walks out of the office, on the sidewalk speaking to people as Candy’s monologue begins.)

V.O. (CANDY)
"Charles Thompson. Councilmember, wannabe mad scientist, and not really giving a care what anyone thinks about him. He’s got so many connections and he’s always in someone’s business. So dangerous but I guess we’re safe, right? (Pause...) Man, I’m so thirsty, and Mel doesn’t even know he stopped by."

(Candy sips from Thermos—sips)

CANDY
"Oh well... YEP! That’s it... ahhhhhh."
(Candy sips from the thermos, then looks toward Mel’s office door, where muffled laughter spills out and a second male exits her office, this one zipping up his pants.)

(Candy opens the thermos and begins to wash down her sandwich with the tea, while beginning to make some fine adjustments to her promotional video that she’s been tasked to present to people today.)

CANDY (CONT'D)
She understands that art is subjective, and she feels that the CHS is basically a modern-day jail for kids. She opens up a video editing app and smiles and grins as she finishes up the video.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM – DAY
A VO of a group of community members and Government officials sit around a conference table at the Children’s Home System. Candy works in the activity room with the children and has been tasked with creating a public service announcement video that includes datasets and how CHS protects them. RIRI and CANDY are doing the VO.

RIRI VO:
"Hey, let me do it!"

CANDY VO:
"Girl hush… Dang okay… Hurry before you miss it!"

RIRI VO:
"Okay y’all here we go! Well first of all, that’s my girl Candy, (she’s sitting right beside me right now)... Look at that bitch… the boss!"

CANDY VO interrupts:
"Riri, read from the script please..." (frustrated).

RIRI VO:
"Okay daaaang... Chill out. Ok... so that there, that’s Squid. His big head ass be lying all the damn time… but he aight… and oh girl, he got money tho! Ahh! And that there… that’s Councilmember Charles, he likes guzzlers... Hey figure it out... then there’s this bitch... Is that Tyla or is that Sable? Anyway, fuck Tyla, Sable’s cool. But hey they not cuter than me tho. And oh, that’s the bitch that don’t wear no shoes around the office… and why is this nigga here? Flip don’t know shit about nothing."

CANDY VO interrupts again:
"RIRI! Nevermind her y’all... Riri press play so we can get out of here!"

(Suddenly a hand opens up on the scene to someone pressing “Play” and The CHS awareness video plays full screen: silhouetted kids dancing with datasets.)

📽️ (Insert “Kids Silhouette Dancing V1” video)

CANDY
(trying to sound professional with a smirk of a smile)
"Sooo... what’d y’all think?"

COUNCILMEMBER CHARLES
(slow clap)
"Bravo. Bravo. A tad... Guantánamo-chic, but hey—if it keeps the little bastards safe."

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
(disgusted)
"It literally looks like we are locking kids up. We must be careful of what emotions we put out there for the new public. We wouldn’t want anyone to assume we’re saying one thing but yet doing another."

(The entire room falls silent... a record skips and scratches... And everyone looks around sarcastically at Mel.)

TYLA (casually sipping coffee and gasped by what Mel said…)
"Ummmm, alrighty then... well, back in reality... I think half these kids should be in prison anyway. Let’s be honest—who’s protecting who…"

SABLE (concurring with her twin Tyla)
"Ummmm, alrighty then... back in reality... I think half these kids should be in prison anyway... Let’s be honest—who’s protecting who..."

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
(throws hands up and gasps)
"I’m just saying—there are actual bars in the video. Like, actual jail bars, y’all. Jail bars!?"

FLIP (who really didn’t watch the video because he was looking down at his phone...)
(laughing) "Bars? Oh yeah, I think they’re tight. At least we got AI artists left... Still mad subwoofers and songs with bass are outlawed on city free Wi-Fi. Music would sound so much smoother, my man..."

SQUID
(chuckles) "Yeah, I agree. But it’s politics, my man. The work involved just to get hip hop and so-called 'woke' music reinstated, it took us over a decade to get back. It took forever to realize the damage that Green Dot did to artists."

COUNCILMEMBER CHARLES
(snarling)
"Jesus Christ, Squid—we’re not here to debate ancient rap battles. Hip-hop died with the new Constitution, remember? Nothing advanced in hip hop after 1996 anyway. You should read up! Give me a clone any day of the week, throw away the rest of these clowns, I say. Props to dope MCs, and unfortunately, we all know the music industry stopped being about music well before the new constitution anyway."

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
(glaring at Candy)
"We can’t drop a PSA that makes it look like we’re trafficking kids behind prison bars."

FLIP (low and casual)
"I mean... the kids do look kinda fire in the lil blackout thing..."

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
"Silhouette."

FLIP
"Did you just say you’re still wet?"

(Administrator Mel drops her head in disbelief as Flip continues.)
"Well whatever... 'It’s giving edgy, tells us we’re protecting them and not afraid to be creative... It’s edgy... I know my son would probably enjoy it."

RIRI interrupts with a VO - Riri grabs a remote and pauses...
"Oh hell to the nawl… I can’t stand this low balling trifling ass nigga here. He don’t even take care of his own damn kids… fuck this nigga..."

(A gun cocks)

CANDY interrupts Riri...
"Riri, shut up! Girrrrrrrrrl, you gotta let whatever that is go... girl go sit your tail down."
(Candy quickly grabs the remote and cuts the video back on with a CLICK. Screen unpauses.)

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
"Okay, Ms. Jones, great job. Love your 'creative edge' and feel on this. After all, Art is subjective as they say... Just slow it down at the end a bit, it was hard to follow. Once you’re done, we’ll send it to as many social workers that might be left in the world."

COUNCILMEMBER CHARLES
"Good luck with that one! You are well aware that mental health and social worker jobs went away with MindNet. No one has to pay for therapy and treatment anymore, well, ever since AI was born... Anyway, did you get the present I sent you this..."

CANDY (interrupting Councilmember Charles loudly)
"Okay, great! Okay! Thank you all!!! This was an excellent meeting. I’ll make the changes right away."

CANDY (mutters)
"I can’t believe they are about to approve this video for the public. What the hell???"

(Candy gets a text on her phone from Parkmoebile that tells her car has amassed another ticket for being in the zone for 2 hours.)

CANDY (mutters)
"UGH, not again..."

INT. ACTIVITY ROOM – DAY

CANDY
(grimacing, sipping her tea, fingers tapping on the keyboard with frustration and purpose. She mutters to herself, tone sharp and deliberate.)
"Dang... I forgot to move my car after I checked in for work. Let me log in so I can extend this meter (please don’t tell nobody)... We’re supposed to move our cars every 2 hours so the local businesses can have new customers... Yeah... sounds crazy right..."

(Candy looks through her record on Parkmoebile and discovers another ticket.)

"How the hell did I get a ticket here when I didn’t even have a car then? The same broken system, just a shinier coat of paint… Well, Charles... let’s see what you can do..."

(Clicks furiously on her mouse, her face illuminated by the screen, but slowly comes to hope when she mentions Charles helping her with the tickets.)
(Pauses, reading something off the screen, her voice dripping with dry sarcasm.)

(Images depicted of people getting tickets, costs of a basic parking ticket is now $300 and doubles, people frustrated with moving their cars, people in businesses showing money piling up and taking care of their family while Black people in the city and in the county struggle to put food on their table.)

CANDY VO (monologue begins):
"Ooooooh, it ain’t even ParkMoebile—it’s just some dumb ass people making decisions in our government. It looks like Parkmoebile is actually implemented differently in other cities."
(Candy stops, pulls up another tab, eyes narrowing.)
"Urban Sustainability, what the fuck is a dynamic urban flow charge? Each year, all these governments do is nickel and dime us with stuff like this… I almost just cussed again."
(Shaking her head)
"And these garages?" (Scoffs) "$85 a day. A day, y’all. You think the average person’s got that kind of money to burn? Parking’s become a luxury item now, like rent ain’t already killing us."

CANDY
(continues with eyes glazed)
"Administrative processing fee? I thought robots ran this sh… nevermind... City Access Balancing... Maaaan, this is so out of control!"
(She digs deeper on the screen, her tone shifting to a steely resolve.)
"And don’t even get me started on these traffic cameras."
(Her voice lowers, biting and controlled, as she reads off the screen.)
"Back then, they were pulling in—what?—millions of dollars a year from traffic camera 'revenue.'"
(She leans back, shaking her head, clearly disgusted.)
"According to reports, from October 2023 through February 2024, the city's automated traffic enforcement program brought in almost $54 million in revenue."
(Candy shakes her head, sighing.)
"Well, that ain’t much, but now they making nearly a billion a year with that one cam on NY Avenue."

CANDY VO
"'Safety,’ huh." (Spits out the word like it’s foul.)
"That’s what they called it. Cameras tucked in blind spots, lights changing faster than you could blink—it was never about safety. It was a damn trap. And people fought back. Sued the city for robbing ‘em blind cause they pretending to protect ‘em."

"Just like the lawsuit in 2018—Whistleblower Cop Wins Case Against City Speed Camera Program—where a speed camera whistleblower won backpay in a discrimination lawsuit against leadership."
(Candy chuckles darkly.)
"If people only knew how easy it was to sue the government back then, everyone would’ve done it."

(The Newspaper pops up on screen, Candy clicks, her face now tight with grim satisfaction as if she’s piecing together a puzzle.)
"All that technology, all that power—and instead of fixing what was broken, they found a new way to bleed us dry. No progress, Finn... y’all can keep your 'greater good.' I ain’t buyin’ it."

(Candy slams her mouse with a decisive click, sits back in her chair, tea in hand. She exhales sharply, her expression firm as if she’s made up her mind about something big.)

CANDY VO
"Well, it’s time to get to work... More children that need a forever family."

FADE OUT.

SCENE 2: CANDY AND RIRI’S APARTMENT

INT. CANDY AND RIRI’S APARTMENT – NIGHT
The apartment is dimly lit, with the faint haze of smoke drifting lazily in the air. RIRI, mid-20s, stands in front of the mirror in her bedroom, confidently dancing to "Thot Anthem." Her moves are sexual and bold, a mix of professional training, self-assurance, and carefree energy. She is recording her performance to upload to allthefans.com. The visual ends with Riri on her knees in a seductive pose, with a services menu and other details about her. Riri sits on the left side of the screen while information pops up on the right.

The music spills into the rest of the apartment as the front door opens. CANDY walks in, her shoulders slumped, visibly exhausted from the long day at the Children’s Home System. She closes the door behind her, drops her bag onto a chair, and passes by Riri’s music coming from the bedroom.

RIRI sticks her head outside her bedroom door, crawling on the floor.

RIRI
(teasing)
"Hey girl!"

CANDY
(looking down at Riri crawling out of her room on the floor)
"WTH... Riri, I swear, you know they can hear that downstairs, right?" (laughing) "You don’t care if we get kicked out of here or not, huh?"

Riri struts out of the room, still grooving to the music, her messy-but-intentional hair swaying with her moves.

RIRI
(smiling)
"Girl relax… You mean that old Tevo bot that can barely recognize basic w o r d s? Girl, whatever."
(She slows her steps as she notices Candy’s tired expression and walks over to the kitchen island.)

RIRI
(softening)
"Yo, you good? You look like you just got outta jail."

CANDY
(sighing)
"Girl, you don’t even know. That place? Straight-up circus. Drama, deadbeats, and chaos."

Riri plops onto the couch, grabbing the joint from the ashtray and taking a slow drag before passing it to Candy.

RIRI
(laughing)
"That’s what you get for tryin’ to save the world. I keep tellin’ you, Candy, nobody’s changin’ nothin’. You just stressin’ yourself out for people who don’t even care."

CANDY
(taking the joint, exhaling)
"Yeah, well, not all of us can sit at home, streamin' and makin' money doin’... whatever it is you do… What... what is it that you really do again?"

RIRI
(rolling her eyes)
"Don’t hate the hustle. These fools pay me to do nothin’. Easy money, sis. Speaking of which..."
(She leans forward, tapping a wad of cash on the table.)

RIRI
(dropping a wad of cash on the table)
"I told you… You better get on (BEEP).com, sis. Easy money. Ain’t no shame in being seen — they watching you down at the job anyway, and you ain’t even getting tipped. May as well…
I mean, let’s be real—you sit at a desk helping broken people in a broken system, while they stare at you like it’s lunch, girl..."

CANDY
(under her breath)
"Yeah, that’s true..."

RIRI
"Anyway! Suit yourself! Me? I’m saving up so I can leave the city and see what’s out there. Introducing my patented Digital Detox System!"
(Riri holds up her phone like a trophy.)
"Only 5 Racks for a 10-minute video call! No calls, no noise—just peace and some Whole Foods strawberries… Shit... churches ask for more! ... and they call it ‘healing.’"

CANDY
(sighing)
"Here we go..."

RIRI
"Anyway… they can say all they want to say about what I do... but I sell peace, baby—and we all need that. Plus it’s legal now. Fuck 'em!"

CANDY
(smiling)
"Well, at least one of us has it all figured out."

(A clip of commercial advertising Governor Fin’s proclamation of the city plays on the TV. Both pause in the living room for a second and watch briefly.)

CANDY
(worried)
"Girl, it’s something about Governor Fin that doesn’t sit right. Is he actually elected?"

RIRI
"Sure looks like it. We ain’t got no post offices or real governments anyway. I have no idea how this works… so I guess just get money."
(Riri smirks, walking over in front of the TV and looks at Fin’s face in detail, then shakes her head in disgust. She turns up the music.)
(Teasing)
"C’mon, Candy! Don’t act like you’re too good for this!"

Candy shakes her head, laughing, but eventually gets pulled into the moment. The two dance and laugh, their earlier tension melting away. They fall back on the couch and share a joint.

Riri grabs the Thermos from the table—the same one Candy brought home from the office. She takes a sip and immediately grimaces.

RIRI
(disgusted)
"Ugh—what the hell is this? Tastes like courthouse and morning dick."

CANDY
(laughs)
"Funny you say that... It probably is. Straight from the system. Anyway... Charles brought it for Mel today, but she was too busy."

RIRI
(muttering, reaching for the liquor bottle)
"Oooooohhhhh, that’s why it tastes like trash. You’d think he’d put sugar in his Kool-Aid... But that bitch ain’t got no taste anyway and she don’t wear no shoes..."
(Hold up...)
She pours a generous splash of liquor into the cup, stirs it with her finger, and takes another sip.

RIRI
(smiling)
"Now that’s more like it. That is my shitttttttt! It’s good for the soul..."

The two share a laugh, passing the joint back and forth as the weight of the day lifts.

CANDY
(casually)
"By the way, Squid stopped by the office today."

RIRI
(under her breath, sarcastic)
"Here we go..."

CANDY
"I asked him about Will. Have you heard from him?"

RIRI
(startled and confused, taking a drag)
"I think I may have seen him… maybe at Arena last weekend, but girl, these niggas all look the same, so I don’t really know. I mean, I never saw his dick or nothin’."

CANDY
(shaking her head)
"Huh… what? Never mind... I’m just worried, that’s all. It’s been weeks since he’s been back and I ain’t heard from him… that’s not like him."

RIRI
(sighing, waving her hand dismissively)
"Girl, he’s fine. Probably just off in his own world. He just got back… He was already crazy before he left for the Navy."

A brief silence falls as Candy leans back, staring at the ceiling.

RIRI
(leaning forward, serious now)
"So listen, I got some really clean work comin’ up. I neeeeeed your help, bitch, are you in?"

CANDY
(smiling, shaking her head)
"Nah Ri, you go ahead… I’m good babysittin’ them kids… you know I ain’t messing with you..."

RIRI
(teasing)
"And just like that… Candy is nominated for the Nobel Peace Prize… Well… Suit yourself. I’m bout to set it off in this mothafucka."

(Music plays “Set it Off” as Riri moves around slowly, heading to her room.)

(Candy’s VO about Riri begins.)
(Riri moves around the room and checks her technology and cameras and cuts them off. Eventually, she chills out into a comfortable silence as she leans and sits against the window, smoking a joint and drinking from the thermos from Councilmember Charles. As the joint burns low, her eyes begin to get heavy and she falls asleep.)

INT. CANDY’S BATHROOM – NIGHT
Steam rises. CANDY stands under the water, her hands pressed to the tile, eyes closed. Her voice comes in soft but reflective, over imagery of the water washing over her.

CANDY (V.O.)
"I met Riri when she was about fourteen. I was maybe sixteen, I think. She grew up a few districts over and her parents had it all, the nice big house, robots… everything. They supported her, put her in the best private schools and check this out, y’all… the girl was all city ballet, all city gymnastics... I mean all city freaking everything... like Olympian. Gymnast-level type shit."

"However, everything changed when her parents disappeared, which made Riri the property of CHS where we shared a pod together. All of us grew up in CHS, but Riri, she was different. When she turned 18, she received an inheritance that was supposed to set her for life, but then something happened with her paperwork and she never got it. She tried for years, filing forms, begging, and even sleeping outside the government buildings, but nothing worked, and I guess now... she just don’t care anymore. Another loss due to people running those systems."

(Riri is seen walking away from a building crying, and then a shot of her face in anger is shown.)

"Now... Riri wasn’t innocent... at all..."
(Riri shows a visual of flipping across mats, pirouetting, smirking as she sneaks her phone into her leotard.)

CANDY (V.O.)
"And even in tutus and tights, she always chased danger. Always wanted the worst kinda dudes—you know… the kind who showed up to prom with ankle monitors and neck tats."

(Brief cut visual of Riri having sex with her dance instructor against a wall in the studio. While her parents are outside on the phone working and not paying attention.)

"Course, every time she messed up, her rich dad threw money at the problem and made it vanish like magic. She got arrested at 12 for stealing a city vehicle and then filming a music video with it— that thang was gone by Monday."

INT. BEDROOMS – SIMULTANEOUS
Split-screen-style visuals of both CANDY and RIRI getting ready for bed. Candy peruses around the room casually in thought, RIRI smokes a blunt.

CANDY (V.O.)
"So what’s Riri’s main hustle? Let me explain what this is really called."
(Pause)
"Some call it death by a million cuts. And others say it’s digital panhandling. But here, in the economy of Nepotism? This is what we call — a High Volume Hook."

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"See, let me explain… Most of the men in her inbox are oligarchs—old money, dirty money—the same power players she’s been rinsing for years.
They like their silence bought and their egos fed.
The rest?
New simps—or, I mean… fans.
Fresh faces. Lonely. Broke-minded but cash-rich.
They pay up just to feel seen."

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"And here’s the kicker—
Some of these aren’t even one-time hits.
They’re pre-orders for meetups.
Down payments on dates that may or may not exist.
She keeps the calendar vague.
She keeps them fools on hold."

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"So here’s how it goes… She sends out 100 messages every cycle. Smooth. Seductive. Transactional. Each one blasted out to followers and fans of her business pages.
The system is simple:
HVH = V × R × C
Where:
V is the volume—100 messages.
R is the request amount—$500 per message.
And C is the conversion rate—let’s take 3% for example under the current adult entertainment laws…"

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"This gives her a potential payout of around $1,500 per cycle.
But in 2051, under the Creative Monetization Act of 2044, no hustle survives without feeding the machine. Every independent stream is taxed, filtered, and picked apart by government compliance systems. It’s all legal. It’s all tracked. And it all adds up."

(Graphics on screen begin to break down the financial deductions on the system.)

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"So let’s break it down:
Base Government Tax (BGT): 18%
Platform Protection Fee (PPF): 7%
Oligarch Residual Surcharge (ORS): 12%
International Device Tariff (IDT): 4%
AI Content Review Compliance Fee (CRC): 9%
Digital Morality Filter Tax (DMFT): 6%
Undocumented Vendor Penalty (UVP): 13%"

(The numbers keep stacking up until they reach a total of 69%.)

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"That’s a total deduction of 69%—all automatically processed before her money even hits the account."
(A dramatic pause as the final deductions appear on screen.)

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"Now, the equation looks like this...
HVH × [(Σx)⁻¹ + ∆Simp] ÷ GOD.
(HVH times the inverse sum of all her government siphons, plus delta simp, divided by GOD.)"

"Every part now has a tax, fee, and ‘oops-you-didn’t-read-the-fine-print’ deduction."
"∆(Delta) Simp? That’s the emotional instability of her latest simps—sorry, I mean subscribers.
And G.O.D.? That stands for Government Overhead Directive. Anything you earn has to pass through Him first."

CANDY (V.O.) (CONT'D)
"So basically, she walks away with less than $500. After the government, the platforms, the morality filters, and then... Of course, the machine takes theirs. And then there’s the links, the fake flirting, the calendar games, the mental exhaustion, and the constant hustle… that’s what’s left.
But that explains the High Value Hook… sounds more like indentured monetization.
But that’s Riri’s hustle. She ain’t ashamed. She says she’s just playing the game smarter than most."

(Candy lays in bed restlessly. Tossing. Turning as the VO continues... Soundtrack “Nepotism” begins to play as video of Riri falling starts. Duplicate overlay of Candy falling video starts. Both are seen falling within an entire screen of neural networks being transformed and transferred into both their DNA.)

(A scene of neural networks (video blend overlay) consumes the entire screen as the video of both falling suspended in air.)

For Candy: fire, fists, shouting, sirens sounds.
For Riri: flashing lights, men’s voices, a strobe of fear and power sounds.

CANDY (V.O.)
"I don’t even ask questions anymore. Stuff I don’t wanna know about, don’t tell me. But if I got you and you got me... That’s all it needs to be..."

SCENE 2.5: WILL’S STORY – REVISED 

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT – NIGHT
Dark. Chaotic. Pill bottles and old mail on the floor. Monitors flicker blue. A DRONE hums overhead like a predator on standby, casually scanning the area. WILL is slumped over his desk, working on electronic gear.

SQUID (V.O.)
"Meet William Moe. Extremely high IQ. Government hacker. Always inventing... and always breaking things. That’s my baby brother. He’s got the missions, medals, and the mental to prove who he is. While everyone was worried about getting their email hacked, Will was the one intercepting your text messages before you even hit send.
He built a bluesnarfing system so advanced, not even the people funding it knew how deep it went. The government had him tracking targets in remote corners of the world—super illegal things... breaching networks, rewriting realities, shaping foreign policy off the books. They needed someone who could hide the truth in plain sight. And Will? That was his specialty.
Yeah, we served together—but don’t get it twisted. I was in the field, but Will was the reason the field existed. He was the one feeding real-time intel to the ones wearing the suits. And he always kept me out of danger."
(Pause)
"But something changed. Too many missions, I guess. Too many ghosts. Now... he’s unpredictable. My brother Will, while so brilliant and right around the corner, he’s so hard to reach. Even for me."

INT. ABANDONED APARTMENT – NIGHT (CONT'D)
WILL
(muttering)
"Wires, circuits... busted pieces. Still runs, though."
(He adjusts the broken radio. It crackles. He almost smiles—almost. The monitors glow.)

MILITARY WILL (O.S.)
(calm, deliberate)
"Wires ain’t the problem, shipmate. You are."

From the shadows, MILITARY WILL steps forward—sharp, composed, and glowing like judgment in uniform.

WILL
(gritting)
"Not now."

MILITARY WILL
"Yes. Now. You been running your whole damn life, boy."

WILL
(low, defensive)
"I survived."

MILITARY WILL
"Survival isn’t healing you, little bitch... Scars talk, even if you won’t."

The drone flickers. A hologram of ANGELA and BIG WILLIAM appears—grainy, ghostlike.

MILITARY WILL
"Let’s talk about your momma Angela. Fifteen, right? Hooked on big ol’ William? Mean as hell, violent, and eleven years older than her, both strung out."

WILL
(stiff)
"Drop it."

MILITARY WILL
"So she ran from her abuser, and then met your real dad—Joseph Swanson. Some old German soldier. One-night stand. Then what’d she do?"

WILL
(quiet)
"She went back."

MILITARY WILL
"Huh? What was that??? Speak up, SHIPMATE."

WILL
(louder)
"SHE WENT BACK!"
(Will turns around, but Military Will isn’t there. He has vanished and appears in a different part of the room… he does this casually throughout the sequence.)

MILITARY WILL
"That’s right… Back to the monster. And he made y’all pay for it."

The projection stutters. The hot iron burn shows up faintly on Will’s arm.

MILITARY WILL
"She put that hot ass iron on you herself, didn’t she? Nigga, don’t act like you don’t remember. All the sirens... all the alarms... then they took your light skin ass away."

(Will rubs his arm, silent.)

MILITARY WILL
"And Johnetta? Your sister. Three more girls came after you, boy. But when Angela finally had a boy... she named him... wait for it... wait for it!!!!!... you guessed it... Ding ding ding... they named the boy William."
"How’s that feel, Shipmate?"

WILL
(quietly, broken)
"...Don’t do this."

MILITARY WILL
(firm, cool)
"You can feel how you feel. Ain’t weakness. It’s the truth. You’re torn between runnin’ toward people... or from ‘em with your disorganized attached ass."

WILL
(sighing)
"That mental shit fogged up, man."

MILITARY WILL
"Fog? You mean the gas… The screams... Yeah, yeah, you remember."

The monitors glitch violently. A map of a chemical strike zone appears—Will's name tagged at ground zero.

[CONTINUED SCENE – DRAMATIC CLIMAX]
Will slams the desk. The monitors hiss with static, flickering violently. The drone buzzes, spinning erratically.

WILL
(yelling)
"Shut the hell up! You don’t know what it’s like!"

MILITARY WILL
(unshaken)
"I do. I know exactly what it’s like and I know exactly what you want."

(Beat. The room quiets slightly—just the low hum of machines and Will’s ragged breath.)

MILITARY WILL
(low, measured)
"You want to make them pay. All of them."

Will stares ahead, eyes distant, fists trembling.

MILITARY WILL
"But you can’t kill enough of them, Will. They’re everywhere. In every system, every office, every uniform."

(A beat. He takes a step closer.)

WILL
(quiet, but full of rage)
"They took everything from me."

MILITARY WILL
(softly)
"And you think revenge gives it back?"

A long silence.

WILL
(voice cracking)
"I don’t know what else to do."

MILITARY WILL
(final warning, steady)
"Well, we both know that’s bullshit. Big weird ass brain like yours... Nigga, you know these things have consequences. You know how it is... Besides, you’re gonna need some help... Want me to call a few of our old shipmates in? Shaun? Rus? I’m sure we’ll be able to 86 the issue in no time."

Will exhales sharply. His hands are shaking. His face twists—anger, pain, regret, and shame—crashing all at once.

The drone emits a high-pitched whine. The lights flicker low. The room seems to breathe with him.

MILITARY WILL
(final time, almost like a whisper)
"Watchu gonna do now, Shipmate? What you gonna doooooooo..." (like Stinkmeister from The Boondocks)

Will drops into the chair, defeated. His head bows. The monitors glow faintly. Static slows... steadies.

CUT TO BLACK.

SCENE 3: GOVERNOR OF THE CITY

INT. GOVERNOR'S OFFICE – NIGHT
The office is sleek, modern, and cold, with large windows offering a view of the cityscape under the faint, shimmering glow of the transparent dome that encases it. Beyond the glass, the city lights twinkle, but there’s a slight haze, like a thin layer of dust has settled over everything, making the world feel just a bit grittier.

At his desk sits GOVERNOR FIN (mid-40s, sharp, calculating, with a sinister charm). He’s impeccably dressed, with a demeanor that radiates control. His eyes scan over a digital map on his tablet, showing sections of the city marked in red—areas that are set to be “redeveloped.” A holographic display projects financial figures, contractors’ names, and encrypted messages. He swipes the screen, pausing at the sight of a contractor’s name before smirking.

GOVERNOR FIN (V.O., darkly amused)
"Every empire needs a few sacrifices. And what better way to make room for progress than to... move a few pieces around?"

(He taps a button, and the display switches to a list of government contracts. The numbers flash—millions of dollars in “redevelopment” funds, with kickbacks discreetly listed under coded tabs. A knock on the door breaks the silence, and without looking up, Fin waves them in.)

The door opens, and the two almost-identical police officers, JOHNSON of Russian descent and JONES with a black southern accent and drawl (both standing dominantly tall, 6’6”, burly, one black and one white, both ex-wrestlers) swagger into the room. They wear police SWAT uniforms that look almost comically undersized for their muscular frames. Johnson carries a donut in his hand, taking a bite as he speaks. They are assigned to issue parking tickets while Tevo bots and Enforcer bots handle the more serious crimes, although they both clamor for real action. Underneath it all, they do the “dirty” work for Governor Fin as his lackeys.

JOHNSON (mouth full, mockingly)
"So, boss, who we throw out now? Any more trailer trash we need to, y’know, 'clean up'?"

Jones laughs, nudging Johnson with his elbow.

JONES
"Maybe we gotta tag team ‘em, like the old days, huh? Remember, J? When we used to slam guys through tables? Now we’re just slamming these niggas with parking tickets."

Johnson smirks, taking another bite of his donut.

JOHNSON
"Yeah, except this time… None of that TV crap. We do real deal now. Besides, you know me, J. I’d rather toss a couple of uptight white folks on the curb than deal with Karen bitches whining about cars."

Jones chuckles, shaking his head.

JONES
"Man, you’re just mad ‘cause they remind you of your Aunt Peggy. Personally, I’ll take that hoe over any other loud-mouth blackey acting like I owe him something. Like, hey, bro, I’m not your spokesperson."

They exchange a knowing, ironic look, their biases clashing in a bizarre, almost comedic symmetry.

JOHNSON
"Please. I got no problem handling black dudes, they’re cool, you know… long as they keep quiet and don’t start shit. Right until they start spouting ancient Black Lives Matter bullshit."

JONES
"Man, fuck ‘em…"

(Mayor Fin finally looks up, interrupting them. His gaze is sharp, but there’s a faint, amused smile playing on his lips.)

GOVERNOR FIN
"Gentlemen, as delightful as your nostalgia and... unique perspectives are, I have more important matters for you to attend to. There’s a new parking regulation going into effect in the Temple Hills District. I need people... motivated to comply so we can make space for something... bigger."

(Fin leans back in his chair, fingers steepled, eyes glinting with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction.)

GOVERNOR FIN
"And by ‘motivated,’ I mean... no distractions. Ensure the machines are functioning well. You understand?"

Johnson and Jones exchange a knowing look. Johnson brushes a few crumbs off his uniform.

JOHNSON
"Gotcha, boss. You want it done, or you want it done... our way?"

Jones mimics cracking his knuckles, adding to the theatrics.

(Fin’s smile widens, but it’s cold, calculating.)

GOVERNOR FIN
"I trust your... creativity. But remember, we’re orchestrating a transition. Investors, the constituents, and even the forgotten will need to see a city that’s orderly, prosperous... and willing to play ball. That means we push just hard enough to clear the board until election year, but not so hard that we tip it over... and that, my friends, is how the greats do it."

(Fin swipes the display again, and a holographic blueprint of a new development project appears—a sleek, shiny corporate hub. The areas marked in red on the previous map overlay the blueprint, showing which parts of the old neighborhood will be demolished.)

GOVERNOR FIN (almost to himself, softly)
"Gentrification, they call it. I call it... evolution. It’s really not that bad… we’ve gone through a lot of them to get here… They can go build elsewhere… It’s time."

(Jones, completely missing the gravity of the situation, chimes in with a chuckle.)

JONES
"Yeah, boss, evolve ‘em right outta their homes. Maybe we get one of them reality TV shows out of it—‘Extreme Makeover: Eviction Edition.’"

Johnson laughs, nearly choking on his donut.

JOHNSON
"I highly doubt people will be excited about reality shows… but haha… it’s time to be accountable."

(Fin’s amusement flickers, but he quickly redirects, swiping to another display showing a list of contractor names and encrypted transactions. He presses a button, and a call icon flashes on the screen. After a beat, ADMINISTRATOR MEL appears on a small screen, looking slightly disheveled and out of breath, clearly not expecting to be summoned.)

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
"Oh, Governor Fin, um... everything’s under control. I was just about to call you, uh—"

(Fin cuts her off, his tone smooth but unyielding.)

GOVERNOR FIN
"Mel, darling, I need your signature on the new development permits for your building's expansion. I’m sending the contracts your way. Make sure everything looks perfect. We’re building a brighter future, after all. We wouldn’t want any... hiccups, would we?"

(Mel glances nervously off-screen, probably at a pile of documents she doesn’t fully understand.)

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
"Of course, of course! Consider it done."

(Fin’s gaze sharpens, though his smile remains.)

GOVERNOR FIN
"Excellent. And Mel? Keep your office... clear. My friends may drop by with a few things, and I’d hate for them to be... misplaced."

(Mel nods quickly, forcing a smile.)

ADMINISTRATOR MEL
"Got it, Governor. No problems here. Everything’s... smooth sailing."

(The call disconnects, and Fin leans back, satisfied. He looks at Johnson and Jones, who are still snickering to themselves.)

FLIP enters Governor Fin’s office with a business owner that works at Studioplace. Fin sits at his desk and sips a drink, politely asking a simple question.

FIN
"What happens when you have worn out your welcome??? It is the resistance such as yourself that plagues the once prosperous society which was fair. Your unique disdain for progress and your continued trolling of our efforts is wrong. You, along with the old guards of the city, sicken me."

BUSINESS OWNER
(Shaken and scared)
"You’re not an elected official. Why are you doing this...?"

FLIP (shakes his head and leans over to the business owner)
"Wrong answer… Just... the wrong answer... I’m sorry for this."

(Flip then strangles the business owner in front of Governor Fin and the officers in the room. Slowly dragging him to the ground...)

(Flip then looks at Governor Fin. Fin bows his head and smiles. Flip smiles back.)

FIN
"We’ll be sure to let your children know you weren’t shit. They can call someone else daddy now, I don’t raise bastards..."

*(The room drops silent as those witness to the crime sit silently, paused in a moment of time...)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)*

FIN
"Alright, gentlemen. Go handle the ‘distractions.’ Make sure the Temple Hills District is... ready for redevelopment."

(Johnson mock-salutes, finishing off his donut.)

JOHNSON
"Don’t worry, boss. We make sure the place is... cleared up and people know we are there for them. Nice and easy."

(Jones grins, adding one last quip.)

(Fin smiles, watching them leave, his eyes cold and calculating as the door closes behind them. He turns back to the holographic map, fingers tapping lightly on the table, like a conductor about to start a symphony.)

CUT TO: An overhead shot of the city, with a skyline of brick walls surrounding the city.

FADE OUT.

Scene 4 – "ParkMoeBile"

EXT. CITY STREET – DAY

A scorching sun beats down on a bustling city block in Temple Hills. CANDY exits a small café, food in hand, soaking in a rare moment of peace on her break.

As she rounds the corner, her mood sinks. She sees two hulking OFFICERS—JOHNSON and JONES—standing next to her rental car. JOHNSON is scribbling on a ticket with pride while JONES leans casually against the hood, eating a donut.

JOHNSON
(loud, mocking)
Well, well, look what we got here. Another fine day for law and order. I really think we can make this place good, Jones.

JONES
Damn straight. Gotta keep these streets clear—even from folks who think they own the place.

Candy approaches, clutching her lunch.

CANDY
Hi officers… what seems to be the problem with my car?

JOHNSON
What’s it look like, sweetheart? We’re doing our job. Two-hour parking means two hours. You overstayed. You pay.

He flashes the ticket like a gold medal.

JOHNSON
Gotta teach little girls a lesson about city rules… peacefully.

Candy steps forward, visibly irritated.

CANDY
You’ve got to be kidding me. I’m at work—there’s no parking at my job! This two-hour rule makes it impossible for residents. You're punishing people just for living here.

JONES
Aww, poor thing. You think you’re the first to complain? We don’t make the rules. We just enforce ‘em.

Candy’s fists tighten. The atmosphere thickens with tension.

CANDY
Yeah, and you enforce them by draining people dry. City parking’s a scam. Half the signs don’t even make sense.

JOHNSON
You got a mouth on you, don’t you? Maybe if you followed the rules like everybody else, we wouldn’t be standing here.

CANDY
You can’t even park longer than two hours anywhere. My people live on this block.

JONES
Rules are rules, lady. The city needs money, and it sure ain’t coming from people following the law.

Candy watches them plaster the ticket on her windshield.

CANDY
This isn’t about clear streets. It’s about money. Illegal cameras, speed traps, parking tickets—it’s all a cash grab. Meanwhile, y’all make it impossible for the people who built this community.

Jones steps in close, prodding her shoulder.

JONES
You better watch that tone, sweetheart. We ain’t your therapist. Break rules, get tickets. Simple.

CANDY
You don’t scare me. This ain’t about law—it’s about control. You’re robbing people in plain sight and calling it justice.

Johnson steps forward, cracking his knuckles. Jones eyes her darkly.

JOHNSON
Time to learn what happens when you mouth off to the law.

Suddenly, JONES grabs Candy by the throat, lifting her into the air. Candy kicks him in the gut, flips backward, and lands in a poised fighting stance.

JONES
(grunting)
You think you’re gonna fix anything, black bitch? City parking keeps the city moving! Businesses need turnover. You're just noise. It’s always you people.

Candy ducks under his punch, sharp and agile.

CANDY
Y’all keep people paying. Fines go straight to city pockets. We just keep moving cars, paying fees, going nowhere.

Jones swings again. Candy parkours across the hood of her car, dodging him with grace.

Johnson chuckles, watching.

JOHNSON
Lady, you’re part of the system whether you like it or not. Break the law, pay the fee. Most colored folks be fine if they just cooperated.

Candy breathes hard, defiant.

CANDY
And how has that worked out? This ain’t about law—it’s about how the law breaks us. What about New York Ave cameras? That racket makes millions every month off our backs!

(she pauses, narrowing her eyes)

And did you just call me a black bitch?

Jones charges from behind. Johnson clocks Candy in the head with his baton.

THWACK.

She hits the pavement. Blood pools beneath her trembling body. Both officers stand over her.

They draw their weapons.

BANG. BANG.

REVERSE IN TIME — QUICK FLASHBACK SEQUENCE

Time rewinds rapidly, sucking the scene back to the moment Candy first speaks.

CANDY
Hi officers, what seems to be the problem with my car?

JOHNSON
What’s it look like, sweetheart? We’re doing our job. Two-hour parking means two hours. You overstay, you pay.

JONES
(sarcastic, robotic)
Attituuuuuude detected… Write that bitch three tickets.

He scribbles furiously and slaps them on Candy’s rental car windshield.

Candy mutters, barely audible.

CANDY
(muttering)
Unbelievable…

The officers laugh—casual, callous—as they walk away.

FADE OUT.

Scene 5 – "Charles in Charge"

INT. CHARLES' APARTMENT – NIGHT

A sleek, ultra-modern apartment. Chic furniture, warm lighting, and pristine décor give the space a polished, luxurious feel. Everything is in its place—too perfect.

In the BATHROOM, a massive illuminated mirror reflects the room’s perfection.

CHARLES (early 30s, striking, effortlessly stylish) stands in front of the mirror, combing his already perfect hair with slow, precise strokes. It’s a performance, and he’s the star.

Smooth jazz hums gently in the background.

Charles’s PHONE rests propped on the countertop, on speaker. A call is in progress.

CHARLES
(mellow, flirtatious)
Mhm, yes, darling, I saw them. And let me tell you... whew... they were fine. I’m talking stop-and-stare-at-your-phone fine. And the best part? Smart. You know I can’t stand the pretty ones who can’t keep up.

FRIEND (V.O.)
(teasing)
Oh really? So, did you message them, or just creep on their profile like you always do?

Charles gasps, dramatic.

CHARLES
Excuse you! I do not creep. I observe. It’s called admiration—from afar.
(pause)
And yes... I might have slid into their DMs... but that’s neither here nor there. Mind ya business, bitches.

He rakes his fingers through his hair again, turning his head side to side to admire the shine.

CHARLES
(to himself)
When you look this good, you don’t have to try. It’s effortless. They come to me.

The call continues.

FRIEND (V.O.)
Ugh, you’re too much. So what, you planning to woo this mystery person with charm and cheekbones? You’ve got, like, three seconds before they figure out you’re a total diva.

Charles smirks, turning and leaning against the sink. His reflection remains centered.

CHARLES
Three seconds is plenty.
(grinning)
Besides, who wouldn’t want all this?

He leans in toward the mirror, admiring his angle, then turns back to the call.

CHARLES
But honestly, why would someone that smart be wasting time online? They should be mingling. Networking. I could teach them a thing or two... just need the right opportunity.
(beat)
You have to be in front of people. It breeds familiarity.

Charles opens a nearby drawer and pulls out a small, sleek black case. He pauses.

Soft jazz fades slightly—an eerie tension brews.

He opens the case slowly, revealing a tiny glass vial filled with a dark, viscous liquid.

His eyes flicker.

CHARLES
(soft, distant)
You know... sometimes, it’s not about being seen. It’s about knowing things. Little secrets no one else knows. Makes you... powerful.

FRIEND (V.O.)
(laughing)
Alright, Mr. Mysterious. What are you getting at? Did you find out something juicy? Spill it!

Charles twirls the vial between his fingers, gazing at it, entranced.

He suddenly shifts his attention to a framed photo of MAYOR FIN nearby.

A knowing smile creeps across his lips.

CHARLES
Oh honey... I’ve got more than gossip.
(beat)
Let’s just say... I have friends in very high places. Doing some very interesting things.

CLICK. He snaps the case shut. The sound cuts the tension like a blade.

His demeanor hardens.

He looks at himself one last time—eyes scanning for flaws.

CHARLES
(whispers)
Perfection is... a work in progress.

The camera pulls back. Charles stands alone, surrounded by opulence, yet holding something dangerous in his hand. The jazz dissolves into a low, uneasy hum.

His phone buzzes.

He doesn’t look.

He slips the vial into his pocket, that same sly smile never leaving his face.

CUT TO BLACK.

Scene 6 – "The Case Against Spider-Man"

EXT. CITY STREET – NIGHT – RAIN

Rain begins to fall, light at first, then quickly intensifying. The city lights blur under the drizzle. OFFICERS JOHNSON and JONES snicker as they climb into their patrol car, wet uniforms clinging to their muscles.

Johnson starts the engine. Jazz is replaced by the rhythm of wipers against the windshield.

JONES
(smug)
Yo, you see that new Spider-Man movie? Kid almost blew up the whole multiverse ‘cause he couldn’t handle a college rejection. Straight-up clown behavior.

JOHNSON
(snorting)
For real. All that power, and he’s crying over some school? If I had his powers, I’d walk in like—"I’m the board now."

JONES
(laughs)
And he’s simpin’ over one girl like he don’t got options! You Spider-Man, bro. Act like it!

JOHNSON
(mocking voice)
"Oh, MJ, I’d risk it all for you!"
(sniffs dramatically)
Nah. If I was him, I’d run this city. Web up anybody talkin’ slick and leave ‘em hangin’.

JONES
Yeah! Start with traffic stops. Spider who? Spider-King, bitch.

JOHNSON
And cryin’ to Doctor Strange?
(mocks)
"Make everybody forget I’m a bitch."
You had Ironman on speed dial and still fumbled.

JONES
(grinning)
Let Spidey swing in here, I’d zap his ass with a taser—watch him flop around like a fish piñata.

JOHNSON
He can go rescue a kitten or somethin’. This city don’t need a babysitter in spandex.

They laugh as the wipers squeak. Then Johnson suddenly slows down.

Through the rain, a figure stumbles into the crosswalk — it’s WILL, naked, disoriented, and rambling, his hands slap against the hood of the patrol car as he collapses.

JONES
(leaning forward)
Hey, hey, what the hell…?
Get this crackhead off my car!

JOHNSON
(smiling)
I dunno, but buddy high as hell. Look at him. He looks like he on our side. Let’s check it out.

They pull over. Rain drenches the pavement.

EXT. CITY STREET – CONTINUOUS

Johnson and Jones step out of the car, rain pelting their shoulders. Will stumbles away from the hood, not acknowledging them.

JONES
(yelling)
Hey buddy! You got a death wish or something? Streets ain’t no place to be walkin’ around confused!

JOHNSON
(approaching)
You hear us? I said stop! You ain’t Spider-Man, buddy.

Will continues moving, mumbling to himself, unbothered.

JONES
(sarcastic)
Spider-Man? Look at this fool… ignoring us like he got powers. Somebody needs a reality check.

Will stops, positions himself in front of the patrol car. Silence.

He cracks his neck slowly—his signature move—then stares at them. Eerie.

JOHNSON
(sneering, hand on holster)
Alright. You wanna play games?

Will raises his wrist, revealing a glowing electromagnetic device.

He screams—a wave of sonic energy erupts.

PATROL CAR LIGHTS flicker. SIRENS blare. WINDOWS EXPLODE.

JOHNSON
(covering ears)
What the—!?

Will launches a pulse blast at the vehicle. Sparks fly. Metal dents inward.

JONES dives behind a trash can, draws his taser, and fires.

The prongs hit Will. His gear malfunctions.

BOOM!
A hidden explosive on the vehicle detonates—blowing Will, Johnson, and the patrol car into the air in slow motion.

EXT. CITY STREET – MOMENTS LATER

Smoke. Fire. Rain. Silence.

JONES
(limping, coughing)
What… the hell… just happened?
Fucking Spider-Man-lovin’ bitch.
Police don’t die…
(beat)
We multiply, bitch.

Will and Johnson lie unconscious. Time slows.

Then—
WILL STIRS.
Groaning. He climbs to his knees, blood mixing with the rain. He takes a few shaky steps, then collapses again, clutching his chest.

HEART ATTACK.

A vision forms—through rain, headlights, and the blur of emergency response—

—it’s CANDY.
She’s caught in the traffic jam on her way to StudioPlace. Her eyes widen in disbelief as she recognizes Will.

She jumps from her car, rushing to him.

CANDY
(exasperated)
Will?! Get up…
Where are your clothes?!
We gotta get you outta here—WILL!
GET UP!!!

She crouches, lifting him, supporting him with all her strength as they stumble into the shadows.

CUT TO BLACK.

Scene 7 – "Finn and Riri Scheme"

INT. GOVERNOR’S PRIVATE OFFICE – ARENA NIGHTCLUB – NIGHT

A dim, velvet-draped office inside the infamous Arena Adult Night Club. Shadows stretch along the walls, disturbed only by the warm flicker of a lone desk lamp and the occasional glint off a grand piano.

GOVERNOR FIN sits at the piano, sipping whiskey. His posture is relaxed but commanding. The lamp’s glow gives him a golden, deceptive softness.

The door opens. RIRI enters—playful, dangerous, radiating swagger. Her steps are confident, casual, defiant.

FIN
(low, calm)
I thought I made it clear, Riri. No shoes on the carpet.

RIRI
(smiling, unfazed)
Oh, did you? Must’ve slipped my mind.

Without warning, Fin lunges from the piano, grabbing her by the throat. He slams her against the desk, his fingers tight.

Riri just grins, breathless but amused.

RIRI
(strained, teasing)
Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Governor...
Is this supposed to scare me?

Fin lifts her—pinning her higher. Riri’s eyes sparkle with dark joy.

RIRI
I think you like this more than I do.

Fin stares at her, ice in his veins. Then, slowly, his grip softens—his hand still lingers, tracing her collarbone before retreating.

FIN
Maybe I do.
But don’t mistake this for affection.
While you’re in my office—you play by my rules.

Riri lets out a low laugh, throat raspy.

RIRI
Oh, I know. But let’s not pretend. You like it when I break the rules.
You love calling me back, choking me out like it’s foreplay.
(mocking)
"As long as you’re in my office, you play by my rules..."
Please. I’ve been choked way harder.
You're lucky you are who you are.

Fin watches her closely—expression unreadable. Then, he steps back, sipping from his glass as he walks to the desk.

He grabs a folder and taps it lightly on the table.

FIN
You’re good at what you do, Riri.
You and your crew got a talent—slippin’ in and out of places you don’t belong.
Lucky for you... I know a few of those places.

RIRI
(suspicious)
Are you suggesting I rob a bank, Mr. Governor?
Sounds like you’re settin’ me up to take the fall.

FIN
(smoothly)
Oh, I’d never be that direct.
I’m just sharing... information.
What you do with it? Up to you.

He steps closer again, voice low and oily.

FIN
But if you were to act on it...
I might make sure certain eyes look the other way.

Riri raises an eyebrow. She crosses her arms, then leans in again—close enough to kiss, but electric with tension.

RIRI
Always a charmer.
But what’s in it for you?
Johnson stays feeling righteous ‘cause he doesn’t pay for... well, you know.
He’s a fuckin’ pig.

Fin’s smile is thin, sharp as a razor.

He slides the folder across the desk to her.

FIN
Call it an investment.
You keep things moving.
I keep things quiet.
You succeed—I overlook a few sins.
You fail—I grind your body into baby food.

Riri opens the folder—surveillance photos, layouts, entry routes.

She grins.

RIRI
Easy pickings, huh?

Fin leans in, his eyes locked on her every move.

FIN
Just remember, Riri...
Don’t walk on my carpet in your shoes again.
Next time...
I might not be so gentle.

Riri starts walking away, heels clicking. She stops at the door, looking back with a smirk.

RIRI
Guess I’ll have to see if that’s a promise...
or a threat, Mr. Governor.

She exits. Fin watches the door slowly close behind her.

He raises his glass, takes a slow sip, and smiles.

Like a man who just baited the perfect trap.

CUT TO BLACK.

Scene 9 – "Studio Visit – Candy, Will & Riri Reconnect at Julius’ Spot"

INT. MARTIAL ARTS STUDIO – EVENING

Golden-hour light spills through tall windows. Wind chimes whisper outside. Inside, the studio breathes calm. The air is thick with incense, curling upward like spirits stretching toward the ceiling.

JULIUS (early 40s, calm, present, built like wisdom wrapped in muscle) sits on a bench, wrapping his hands slowly in cloth—like a meditation.

The door creaks open.

CANDY enters first, holding it for WILL, who limps in cautiously. His eyes scan everything: walls, beams, vents—calculating, assessing.

RIRI slips in last, full of bounce and curiosity, her eyes darting with energy.

JULIUS
(smiling warmly)
Look who the universe sent in.
What’s the occasion?

CANDY
(teasing)
Peace... or maybe I just picked up strays on the way in.

WILL
(smirks)
I’m not a stray. Just had a bad day, Moe.

JULIUS
(chuckling)
Off-grid too, by the look in your eyes.
You scanning for cameras or spirits?

WILL
Both.

Will slowly walks the room's perimeter. He taps exposed beams, checks corners. It’s analog. No tech. No surveillance. That unsettles him... but earns his respect.

CANDY
(quietly, to Julius)
Caught him after that mess down by Suitland Parkway.
Those fake cops did him dirty.
Didn’t say much—just needed somewhere quiet.

JULIUS
(grave, gentle)
Temple Hills ain’t quiet no more.
Oligarchs still creeping... trying to rob what they couldn’t build.
But this place? Still sacred.

(turning to Will)
You welcome here.
No pressure. Watch, move, breathe—whatever you need.

Will nods. He settles on a bench, hands folded. A soldier in a rare safe zone.

Meanwhile, Riri kicks off her heels and bounces across the mat.

RIRI
Yo, this floor feel like rehearsal day.
Ballet flashbacks hittin’ hard.

JULIUS
That’s ‘cause your body remembers.
Discipline don’t fade—it waits.

He gestures her to join him.

RIRI
You sure you want this smoke, old man?
(grins)
I was the smallest stripper in five clubs...
but never the weakest.
Plus I got a bottomless hole...

Julius raises a brow—amused, not fazed.

JULIUS
I heard about you.
Riri, right?
Word is... you dropped a bouncer three times your size.

RIRI
(smiling)
He shouldn’t have touched me.

She drops into a fighting stance.

RIRI
Let’s see what you got.

They circle.
RIRI LUNGES—sharp, reactive, raw. No formal style, but unpredictable.

JULIUS redirects her gently, like he’s folding paper. She cartwheels out of his hold, lands with flair.

JULIUS
(smiling)
You fight like a firecracker in a shoebox.
That’s dangerous. Real dangerous.

RIRI
(shrugs)
When you five feet fine, the world assumes...
then regrets it.

Will chuckles softly from the bench.

Candy smiles quietly.

JULIUS
(interested)
You’ve been doing martial arts this whole time—
you just wore rhinestones while you did it.
That’s Wushu in heels.
Ballet, flips, rhythm... weaponized.
And you didn’t even know it.

RIRI
Whoshu?
Man, hush yo mouth...

WILL
(low, to himself)
No wires here.
But it’s got energy... I’ll give him that.

They spar again—more fluid now. Trust building.

JULIUS
Y’all keep running from the world,
but one day...
you’ll realize it’s not about escaping.
It’s about building something stronger—
right where you are.

Let the powers have their barbecues and galas...
You build in their backyard.
Silent. Steady.

Will nods, faint. He’s listening.
For once, he’s not planning to leave.

Riri wipes her brow, glowing with effort.

RIRI
Damn. This beat pole fitness by a mile.
I forgot I liked feeling this strong.
Good thing I’m taking it easy on you...

JULIUS
(grinning)
Strength don’t leave you.
It waits.
And thank you...
for your mercy, Riri.

Candy watches the three of them.

For the first time in a long time...
She feels something unexpected.

Peace.

FADE OUT.

Scene 10 – "The Discovery"

INT. STUDIOPLACE – STUDIO A – NIGHT

The dim studio hums softly. A glow from the digital board casts a soft halo over CANDY, who’s laying down vocals.

ICONIC RECORDING, legendary producer, leans over the mixer, nodding as he adjusts levels.

ICONIC
(adjusting fader)
That was clean. Let’s take fifteen. Come back fresh.

CANDY
(sighs, rubbing her temples)
Cool.

She exits the booth, leaving the recording room behind as the sound fades.

INT. STUDIOPLACE – HALLWAYS – NIGHT

The air feels... different. The lights buzz faintly. Something about the space feels older tonight. Heavier.

Candy walks slowly.

INT. STUDIOPLACE – MEMORIAL ROOM – NIGHT

A quiet, dust-coated space honoring Mr. West, the late founder. Candles flicker dimly. Framed photos, handwritten notes, and unlabeled relics cover the walls. The energy is reverent but forgotten.

Candy brushes her fingers along a photo frame—Mr. West, smiling in black and white.

CLICK.

The frame shifts in her hand. Not just decorative—it’s latched.

She tilts it farther. A panel creaks open, revealing a hidden compartment. Inside: a worn ledger book.

She flips through the pages… until—

Her name.

CANDY
(softly, breathless)
“What the hell is this...?”

She freezes. Then she sees more:

Original Deed.
“Held in custody by The Elders of Bentonia – Mississippi.”

She drops the ledger in disbelief.

CANDY
(reading, stunned)
“StudioPlace… Will... Mississippi?”
Erik and Fin don’t own this…
(pause)
Oh my God. I do?

SQUID ENTERS – MEMORIAL ROOM

SQUID appears in the doorway—half in shadow, casually observing.

SQUID
(grinning)
You’re either robbing the place or just found something real interesting.

CANDY
(covering, half a smile)
You always this nosy?

SQUID
Only when it’s worth my time.

He steps forward. Sees the open panel. Glances at the ledger in her hands.

SQUID
(serious now)
This why they been sniffing around?

She hesitates, then hands him the page with her name on it.

SQUID
(staring, stunned)
Holy shit.
When did you find this out?

CANDY
Just now.
I was in session, took a break, wandered in here…

SQUID
(quietly, still processing)
This is crazy.

CANDY
(pointing)
This explains everything. Erik’s in on it. But I gotta confirm this is real.

SQUID
You trust these... Elders?

CANDY
My uncle used to talk about Mississippi. Said after 2024, it got too dangerous—even for the people from there.
Let alone outsiders.

SQUID
Yeah… one of those places.
The cult’s real.
Going out there’s dangerous.

CANDY
Definitely.

SQUID
(smug)
So that’s why you were about to ask me for a ride.

CANDY
(exhales, annoyed)
Shut up.

FOOTSTEPS.

They both go still.

ERIK ENTERS – MEMORIAL ROOM

ERIK DANE appears in the doorway. Calm. Smiling. But his presence presses in like a trap closing.

ERIK
Didn’t think I’d find you two in here…

CANDY
(casual)
Taking a break. You should try it.

ERIK
(smirk)
Funny.
But this place…
Something’s been off.

His eyes flick to the slightly crooked frame on the wall.

ERIK
(low, testing)
Ever feel like the past has a way of creeping back up?
Like some things don’t stay buried?

CANDY
(smooth)
Sounds poetic. You writing songs now?

SQUID
(sarcastic)
We all know how talented you are, Erik.
You helped build this place.
I’m sure the artists are thriving…

ERIK
(smirking, admiring himself in a dusty mirror)
There are no answers, Squid.
Just stupid people and smarter ones who profit.
Worked out fine for those who played by the rules.

CANDY
Well, that’s clever—since you wrote the rules.

Erik chuckles. Steps closer. Not threatening—yet heavy with suggestion.

ERIK
StudioPlace has history, doesn’t it, Candy?
Lot of secrets.

He shifts focus. Looks directly at Squid.

ERIK
What you doin’ lurking around?
Big players like you usually got more pressing things to do.

SQUID
(straight)
Just stretching my legs.
Thought I’d do something... creative.

ERIK
Well. Don’t let me interrupt your little trip down memory lane.

He brushes Candy’s shoulder with deliberate touch—then turns and walks away, scent of cologne and control trailing behind.

INT. STUDIOPLACE – CONTINUOUS

Footsteps fade.

SQUID
(quietly)
He ain’t buyin’ it.

CANDY
(gripping the ledger)
Doesn’t matter. He doesn’t know.

(beat)
And even if he did...
He can’t manage it.
He’s always stolen other people’s work and called it strategy.
He’s been the villain for 50 years.

SQUID
(dry)
Yet.

Candy exhales. She doesn’t want to agree—but she knows Squid is right.

They need to move—before Erik gets the rest of the puzzle.

EXT. STUDIOPLACE – PARKING LOT – NIGHT

The streetlamps cast long shadows across the pavement. Squid leans against his low-profile car, arms folded.

CANDY paces. Ledger still in hand.

SQUID
Say it.

CANDY
(defensive)
Say what?

SQUID
(amused)
That you need me.

CANDY
(stops, exhales)
I don’t need you. I need a ride.

SQUID
(grinning, unlocking the car)
That’s what I thought.
You know I always got your back, girl.

She slides into the passenger seat, holding her truth like a weapon. Squid starts the engine.

SQUID
We got a long ride ahead.

As the car pulls off, StudioPlace fades in the rearview mirror.

INSERT – PHONE SCREEN: 2 MISSED CALLS – FROM: WILL.

FADE OUT.