Post by Trixie on Nov 19, 2016 17:18:40 GMT
EXT LAS VEGAS HIGH SCHOOl - LAS VEGAS, NV - MAY 3rd, 2011
2 Weeks to Prom…
Trixie (16) heads to class with her paper in hand as she's not in the best of moods. Storming up the school steps and bursts through the doors to turn most of the student body's head her way as she navigates through the crowd. Trixie makes her way to her locker and finds a note already lodged inside, too far to grab through the narrow rectangular holds so Trixie enters her locker room combination.
TRIXIE (V.O):
"Thirteen…Sixteen….two…"
The locker doesn't open. Trixie spins the dial three times clockwise and starts again.
"Thirteen…Sixteen….two…"
The locker doesn't open. Trixie spins the dial three times clockwise and starts again.
TRIXIE (V.O):
"Thirteen!…Sixteen!….two…"
And Randall Sherman successfully opens her door. Trixie grabs hold of it to keep it somewhat shut, her heart racing just a tad over what the note had inside and she had a suspicious look as she peers down to her lock.
"Thirteen!…Sixteen!….two…"
Randall:
"Thirteen, Sixteen, Thirty-two."
"Thirteen, Sixteen, Thirty-two."
And Randall Sherman successfully opens her door. Trixie grabs hold of it to keep it somewhat shut, her heart racing just a tad over what the note had inside and she had a suspicious look as she peers down to her lock.
TRIXIE:
"I didn’t set it that combination"
Trixie stopped listening after she heard reset it. She had gone over to his home the night before not by choice but to keep her social life at school alive, threatening to take her prom from her over a brand new surprise assignment she had to do alone when she really didn't know the science of biology.
Trixie sits in style as she rests her feet on a cardboard box on the jet, sipping champagne as she locks her seatbelt in for the landing.
"I didn’t set it that combination"
Randall Sherman:
"I saw Mr. Oaklake reset it last night when AV Club ran really late, he said someone was breaking into your locker to steal your work, great job on that B+! I knew you were smart."
"I saw Mr. Oaklake reset it last night when AV Club ran really late, he said someone was breaking into your locker to steal your work, great job on that B+! I knew you were smart."
Trixie stopped listening after she heard reset it. She had gone over to his home the night before not by choice but to keep her social life at school alive, threatening to take her prom from her over a brand new surprise assignment she had to do alone when she really didn't know the science of biology.
TRIXIE:
"Thank you-"
Trixie looks over her shoulder as Randall clearly begins to step back. A blonde, broad-shouldered male comes in with his biology book, Randall's assigned partner for the Biology project and Trixie's prom date; Damien Strone.
Damien plops his cotton covered arm over her shoulders and grips her tightly, bringing some sunshine to the raincloud Trixie had over her head.
Trixie didn't watch Damien take his leave, instead, she turned around to roll up his sleeves and display some yummy and toned forearms that took her gaze for like three seconds.
Two men in a warehouse have wrapped packs of marijuana being packed into a pink Nike gym bag, behind them are a few plants and stack of baggies. The smaller man (DIEGO) has largely tanned skin and wears a stud in his tongue and below his bottom lip with a half goatee beard. His head shaven bald with his hairline pretty on display. The other (MANUEL) has long, dark hair and naturally curly. He wears a fitted black collar shirt with two buttons at the top undone to show off a clean chest.
Diego slaps another wrapped block of the plant into the bag.
Manuel zips up the bag.
Miguel holds the bag
WADE STORM's PRIVATE JET - TIJUANA, MEXICO - NOVEMBER 18TH, 2016
"Thank you-"
Male Voice (O.S):
"Sherworm!"
"Sherworm!"
Trixie looks over her shoulder as Randall clearly begins to step back. A blonde, broad-shouldered male comes in with his biology book, Randall's assigned partner for the Biology project and Trixie's prom date; Damien Strone.
Randall Sherman:
"Damien…I was just helping her with her locker room combination."
"Damien…I was just helping her with her locker room combination."
Damien Strone:
"You're a lucky little worm that you're my partner or you'd be neck deep in trash right now. Trix.."
"You're a lucky little worm that you're my partner or you'd be neck deep in trash right now. Trix.."
Damien plops his cotton covered arm over her shoulders and grips her tightly, bringing some sunshine to the raincloud Trixie had over her head.
Damien Strone (Cont'd):
"She's my girl, so go back to that dirt, nerd, camera club."
"She's my girl, so go back to that dirt, nerd, camera club."
Trixie didn't watch Damien take his leave, instead, she turned around to roll up his sleeves and display some yummy and toned forearms that took her gaze for like three seconds.
Damien Strone:
"So babe, party going on tonight, got more booze than a brewery! You're coming right?"
"So babe, party going on tonight, got more booze than a brewery! You're coming right?"
TRIXIE:
"Totally! Wouldn't miss it for the world, Damien."
Damien gave her the wink that took her breath away and left her melting against the locker until she realized why she opened it, well had it opened for her, in the first place. Trixie dumped her Biology paper into the locker and pulled out the note. Unfolding it carefully to see the contents, her eyes slowly reading the words as each line makes her eyes grow wider and wider and her smile slowly fades into a cringed, on the verge of crying face. Trixie dumps the paper into the locker in a ball and slams her locker shut, clicking the lock and hadn't realized her hair had been caught in the door as she walks and feels the tense, sharp pain on her roots and fiddles with the lock, trying her original combination twice before she corrects herself with the thirty-two third digit and frees herself, nostrils flaring, Trixie bursts through a couple hugging in the middle of the corridor, separating them and walks her way with fury in her fists.
MEXICO WAREHOUSE - TIJUANA, MEXICO - NOVEMBER 16TH, 2016
"Totally! Wouldn't miss it for the world, Damien."
Damien gave her the wink that took her breath away and left her melting against the locker until she realized why she opened it, well had it opened for her, in the first place. Trixie dumped her Biology paper into the locker and pulled out the note. Unfolding it carefully to see the contents, her eyes slowly reading the words as each line makes her eyes grow wider and wider and her smile slowly fades into a cringed, on the verge of crying face. Trixie dumps the paper into the locker in a ball and slams her locker shut, clicking the lock and hadn't realized her hair had been caught in the door as she walks and feels the tense, sharp pain on her roots and fiddles with the lock, trying her original combination twice before she corrects herself with the thirty-two third digit and frees herself, nostrils flaring, Trixie bursts through a couple hugging in the middle of the corridor, separating them and walks her way with fury in her fists.
MEXICO WAREHOUSE - TIJUANA, MEXICO - NOVEMBER 16TH, 2016
Two men in a warehouse have wrapped packs of marijuana being packed into a pink Nike gym bag, behind them are a few plants and stack of baggies. The smaller man (DIEGO) has largely tanned skin and wears a stud in his tongue and below his bottom lip with a half goatee beard. His head shaven bald with his hairline pretty on display. The other (MANUEL) has long, dark hair and naturally curly. He wears a fitted black collar shirt with two buttons at the top undone to show off a clean chest.
Diego (Spanish):
"Manuel, we gonna sell this in the States this time?"
"Manuel, we gonna sell this in the States this time?"
Diego slaps another wrapped block of the plant into the bag.
Manuel (Spanish):
"No, no, no. The cost to get this across the border is too much, we are trying to sell a great product cheap, we'll gradually build our price once we have a piece of the market."
"No, no, no. The cost to get this across the border is too much, we are trying to sell a great product cheap, we'll gradually build our price once we have a piece of the market."
Manuel zips up the bag.
Diego (Spanish):
"We need to get this into the States, sell to dealers and push the product out. And I hate the pink bag."
"We need to get this into the States, sell to dealers and push the product out. And I hate the pink bag."
Miguel holds the bag
Manuel (Spanish):
"Diego, please. Enough whining and just close up. The bag is pink because it's our hook."
"Diego, please. Enough whining and just close up. The bag is pink because it's our hook."
WADE STORM's PRIVATE JET - TIJUANA, MEXICO - NOVEMBER 18TH, 2016
Trixie sits in style as she rests her feet on a cardboard box on the jet, sipping champagne as she locks her seatbelt in for the landing.
