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She's completely destroyed, silent.

DECKARD: I'll get you a drink. I'll get a glass.


CUT TO INT. KITCHEN: Deckard is peering at her from the doorway. Rachael drops the picture and heads for the exit. He just stands there looking where she was.


He sets his drink down and picks up the picture studying it. Later he is inspecting the photos he found in Leon's apartment.


INT. LIVING ROOM/BALCONY: Deckard goes to the balcony with his drink and looks down on the busy city night life.


CUT TO EXT./DARK STREET - NIGHT: Pris is walking towards us. Cars and pedestrians fill the street, a spinner rockets past overhead.


She reaches her destination - The Bradbury.


EXT. SEBASTIAN'S BUILDING: She looks up to see the huge blimp flashing it's giant screen advertisements, it's engines are humming with an oscillating ultra-low sound. Pris stares in wonder.


A police spinners glides above the street, Pris makes her way to the Bradbury.


Pris enters between the twisted corduroy columns and into the foyer.


She picks a spot near the entrance and is covering herself with old newspapers and trash for warmth.


A van that looks a little more current to new model vehicles in L.A. 2019 than some of the relics cruising the streets, comes to a halt in front. The driver is J.F. Sebastian.


Sebastian gets out, a young man with skin that is yellowing into old parchment. He's wearing an old leather cap and carrying a pack. In spite of his youth, he carries himself like Old China as he walks toward the entrance with the gait of an old man.

Fishing through his pack, he drops his keys near Pris. Startled, Pris leaps to her feet and runs like a frightened gazelle, knocking down Sebastian. She runs blindly into his truck, breaking the side window. Sebastion reaches down and picks up the bag she left behind.


SEBASTIAN: Hey! . . . You forgot your bag.

He's holding it up. She eyes him from a distance... unsure of him. Then she moves toward him tentatively and snatches the bag from him forcefully.

PRIS: I'm lost.

SEBASTIAN: Don't worry, I won't hurt you.


Both of them are silent. People are not Sebastian's forte... usually he's too shy, but this girl is shyer still. Plus they're about the same age... it gives him courage.

SEBASTIAN: What's your name?

PRIS: Pris.

SEBASTIAN: Mine's J.F. Sebastian.

PRIS: Hi.


So pleased with the way that went, he forgets for a while what comes next.

SEBASTIAN: Hi. . .Oh... where were you going? . . . Home?

PRIS: I don't have one.

SEBASTIAN: Oh.


She looks at him, a shadow of enticement in her clear blue eyes.

PRIS: We scared each other pretty good, didn't we?

SEBASTIAN: We sure did.

She giggles and laughs.


PRIS: I'm hungry, J.F.

SEBASTIAN: I've got stuff inside, you want to come in?

PRIS: I was hoping you'd say that.

Sebastian's grey face flushes with pleasure. He turns and inserts a key in the ornate iron mesh door and swings it open. Pris is looking at him like a predator.


CUT TO INT. SEBASTIAN'S LOBBY: The large blimp can be seen through the building's ceiling windows, it's search lights constantly scanning like an all seeing eye.


Stacks of gaudy balconies loom into shadows. The blimp's search lights invading from outside are swirling around the dilapidated interior. Pris and Sebastian enter the elevator.


The interior's haze is so thick you can barely see the other floor levels. Abandoned mannequins litter the dark hallways like tenants of the past.

PRIS: Do you live in this building all by yourself?

SEBASTIAN: Yeah, I live here pretty much alone right now. No housing shortage around here. Plenty of room for everybody.









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1981 Text Only Script

Image Gallery

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Artists on BR



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