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            INT.  MEETING BOARDROOM-4.  - NIGHT

            The small meeting-room, the night before the day Neville
            'decided' to outplace twenty-six staff and give the factory
            to the other Facility. 

            Bob and Neville sit discussing. 

            The wall calendar shows May. 

            Bob's smokes on the table. He want's one now.

                                BOB 
                      You're quite right, Neville, you've got
                      to do something. 
                          (beat, a sinister sneer)
                      Downsizing is the only answer. 
                          (adjusts himself while sitting)

            Neville cringes. Bob smiles,

                                BOB (cont'd)
                      Clear focus, that's it. Retract to
                      diminutive capability, eliminate the
                      vertical structure of the "old" company,
                      sub-contract R & D and give the Factory
                      to the other Facility.
                          (adjusts himself again)

                                NEVILLE 
                          (wheedling)
                      But what do I say to "Ken". If he fires
                      me now, I'll lose at least a tenth of the
                      pension I'll get if I can stay on for
                      another few years.

                                BOB 
                          (shrugging)
                      I have to go for a leak.

            He picks up his smokes and exits.

            INT.  ALBURY BOG.  - NIGHT

            A toilet door. 

            A notice on it, "NO SMOKING". 

            A fridge outside it. A sink with teatime stuff on it. A
            notice board. Full. 

            Bob enters. Stops at the fridge. Opens it and extracts a
            bottle of whisky from within. Amongst the many slabs of beer.
            Takes a long swig while adjusting himself and emitting a long
            fart.

                                BOB 
                      Ah!! That's better. 

            He replaces the bottle, lights a fag and enters the toilet.

            INT.  MEETING BOARDROOM-5.  - NIGHT

            Neville sits. Alone with his thoughts.

                                NEVILLE (V.O.)
                      I told Ken that we'd achieve budget this
                      year, I can't appear to be wrong, Ken
                      will accept downsizing. After all going
                      Private is the only thing that matters,
                      he'll accept outplacement, it's today's
                      and his mindset.  Jeff says that he can't
                      handle the two-hundred-and-fifty jobs
                      he's got already but I can't tell Ken
                      that, I'd have to allow Jeff to recruit. 
                      Ken would obviously see that as
                      inconsistent when I lay-off twenty-six. 

            Bob enters, adjusts himself, sits.

                                BOB 
                      Well, what's the decision?

                                NEVILLE 
                      Jeff can't possibly handle the workload
                      with the staff he's got now so how can I
                      lay - off twenty - six?

                                BOB 
                      Don't worry, 
                          (adjusts himself then touches
                           Neville's arm affectionately)
                      I'll handle Jeff and, after all, you've
                      got to go to UK, so, Brian Suit will have
                      to organise the outplacements, won't he?

            Neville slowly nods. Uneasily. Not sure. An easy way out!

                                BOB 
                      Corporate will have it in - hand.
                      Employee Development will tell him what
                      to do.

            Neville calms, smiles, agreement. Bob sneers, adjusts himself
            while sitting. To the other side. Breaks into a long smokers
            cough.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      Tom will be astounded!

            BLACKNESS. 

            The SOUND of a lone heartbeat.

            INT. 2ND AWAKENING. NIGHT.

            MUSIC. Dying, yet almost reborn music.  

            LIGHT. Slowly. Hazy light. Somewhere -- nowhere. 

            YOUNG Joe (25) appears. Flannelette shirt. Grey slacks.
            Slightly hazy. Like a reflection in rippling water.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      It's not fair.

                                YOUNG JOE
                      Not fair? You could have lied like all of
                      'em, had you been good at it, but you did
                      "your" thing, didn't you?  All that
                      "goody- goody" shit. Bloody coward,
                      weren't you?

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      S'pose so, I was scared, all thirty of us
                      were scared of losing a plum job, but
                      it's still not fair.

                                YOUNG JOE
                      Can't you see it yet? Neville, Ken and
                      all of 'em need to be what they are. Just
                      as you did. We've done all that, bum 
                      licking, scrotum- scratching, tongue 
                      tittilating, nipple-nibbling in the past,
                      so why do it again?

                                JOE (V.O.)
                          (confused)
                      When did I do those things?

                                YOUNG JOE
                      Oh, I forgot,.......We mixed it up,
                      didn't We? 
                          (looks embarrassed, then
                           smiles)
                      Just let them go, they'll get their just
                      deserts, eventually. Here, here's what we
                      did in the past lives....

            SILENCE. 

            BLACKNESS.

            MUSIC To symbolise Joe's learning about one of his past
            lives.  

            A short PAUSE.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 1.- DAY

            SLOWLY. We see. HAZY. Like a memory. Our RED INDIAN SQUAW.
            Close. She looks into our face. Sadness. Fear. Filling the
            beautiful dark face. Her dark  eyes sparkling with sad
            fearful tears. We console her. She lays her head on our
            chest. We stroke her long black hair. Affectionately.
            Looking over her shoulder we see three very young RED INDIAN
            CHILDREN. Frightened. Confused. Clinging to each other for
            comfort. 

            BLACKNESS. 

            The SOUND of a heartbeat. 

            A short PAUSE.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 2.- DAY

            INSTANTLY from BLACK - LEVEL. 

            HAZY. Like a memory. 

            POV: From the back.  A RED -INDIAN brave. Galloping fast on 
            painted horse. Spear in - hand. Long black hair. Flowing in
            the wind.. Dust. Up and down gullies. Running from something.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 3.- DAY

            HAZY. Like a memory. 

            POV: From the back. a CAVALRY-SOLDIER. Galloping fast on army
            horse. From the back. Dust. Wind. Up and down gullies.
            Chasing something. Springfield rifle in-hand.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 4.- DAY

            BACK TO:  HAZY. Like a memory. 

            POV: From the back. The Red - Indian brave. Galloping fast on
            painted horse. Spear in-hand. Long black hair. Flowing in the
            wind. From the back. Dust. Up and down gullies. Running from
            something.

            His horse stumbles. He falls. Rolls on the ground. Stands.
            His back to us.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 5.- DAY

            BACK TO:  HAZY. Like a memory. The Cavalry - Soldier.
            Galloping fast on army horse. 

            P.O.V. from the back. He pulls his horse up suddenly. Dust.
            Aims the Springfield rifle. Fires.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 6.- DAY

            HAZY. Like a memory. The Red - Indian. Falls forward. Shot in
            the back. From the rear. HE crawls. Slowly rises. Turns
            towards us. 

            RED - INDIAN - JOE. Hate in his eyes. Lifts his spear. Throws
            it at us. 

            HE SCREAMS. Hatefully. Hopelessly. 

            The SOUND of a second shot. 

            A small neat hole appears in Red -Indian - Joe's forehead. 

            The contents of his head explode to the wind. 

            He falls to the ground. Facing skywards. Blood exudes over
            the ground. He twitches. In his own blood. 

            The SOUND of horses-hooves. Slowing. Getting nearer. 

            The SOUND of harness jangling. HORSE snorting. 

            A SHADOW of a Cavalry-Soldier cast over dying Red - Indian -
            Joe.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 7.- DAY

            Red - Indian - Joe  P.O.V.;	 HAZY. Like a memory. The Cavalry
            - Soldier stands looking down at us. 

            The GLARE of the sun blinding us. The Cavalry - Soldier
            unzips his fly.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 8.- DAY

            The Cavalry - Soldier's P.O.V.;	 Red - Indian - Joe's face as
            urine sprays on it. It contorts in dying hate. Cannot move
            else.

            EXT. A PAST LIFE 9.- DAY

            BACK TO:	 Red - Indian - Joe P.O.V.;	 HAZY. As seen through
            a water-stream falling on our eyes. 

            The Cavalry - Soldier stands looking down at us. Urinating
            over us. 

            The GLARE of the sun blinding us to his face. He stops
            urinating. Zips - up. Moves in front of the sun casting
            shadow over our face. The water on our eyes dissipates. 

            We see CLEARLY.

            The CAVALRY-SOLDIER is NEVILLE. 

            He sneers down at us. 

            BLACKNESS. 

            The SOUND of a heartbeat. 

            A PAUSE.

            The SOUND of a long recognitive SIGH of understanding.

            INT. THE LABORATORY-4. - DAY

            The electronic laboratory MISTS SLOWLY into view. 

            Eight benches perpendicular to the wall. Electronic equipment
            adorn the benches. Eight Engineers occupy them. One at each
            bench. Working. They are randomly clothed. Varying degrees of
            NUDITY. 

            Joe, (45), works at one bench. Diligently. Fully clothed. 

            Lindsay (60) enters. Fully clothed.  Aggressive. All
            Engineers, scanty - clad, go into subservient mode.  Lindsay
            walks up to Joe. "Boss" - like.

                                LINDSAY 
                          (astounded)
                      "They've" put a bloody Receiver in!

            Joe looks up. He knows.

                                JOE
                      What will they do?

                                LINDSAY 
                      I don't know. Someone dobbed me in.
                      Someone's been talking. "They" think I
                      was going to do a bunk with the gadget.
                      "They'll" probably shut the place down.

                                JOE
                      They can't do that, Can they?

                                LINDSAY 
                      Bastards!

            He exits. 

            All Engineers look to one another. For comfort. None
            forthcoming.  

            Joe continues working. 

            A tear runs down his cheek. Off his chin. Falls to the floor. 

            In SLOW MOTION. It hits the floor. IT SHATTERS.  INTO a
            THOUSAND pieces. 

            BLACKNESS. 

            The SOUND of a heartbeat.

                                JOE (V.O.)
                      It all didn't really matter. 
                          (beat)
                      But then,.... 
                          (beat, then slowly, wondrously)
                      ...it really did!

            INT.  POLICE WAGON INTERIOR-30. - DAY

            BACK TO:	 Joe lying on the floor of the wagon.  Bruce
            reaching down to him. In VERY SLOW MOTION. 

            P.O.V. Joe;	 Another SPURT of blood past our eyes. From the
            hole in our head. Bruce commences to speed up. SLOWLY
            reaching to grab us. 

            The SOUND of the penultimate heartbeat. 

            A final SPURT of blood before our eyes. From the hole in our
            head. Exhausting our content. 

            The SOUND of a LAST heartbeat. 

            Joe P.O.V.;	 Young Joe appears. Looking down on us.
            Smiling. We look into his eyes. Closer. Closer.  

            We MELT into them. 

            Bruce P.O.V.; Joe. Face covered in blood. Hole in his head.
            Breathes his last breath. Joe dies. 

            A SHIMMER. Bringing us into earth -time. 

            Bruce grabs Joe. Terrified.

                                BRUCE 
                      Oh God! Someone's shot you! Oh, God!

            The rear door of the wagon opens. Bill there.

                                BILL
                      What happ..,
                          (looks, realising)
                      Oh, shit!

            Bill turns, looking wildly around. 

            Bruce scrambles out of the wagon rear. They stand. Cautious.
            Scanning the area for the assailants.

            EXT. THE ASYLUM-24.- DAY

            BACK TO:  The Police wagon stopped. 

            BILL and Bruce looking around. To the rear of the police
            wagon. Nervously looking around. 

            THUMPER lies.  ADI Steyr aimed. ADI grenade in the barrel.

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Squad, no-kill! Remove possibles!

            Weapons fire from all directions. SILENCED weapons. 

            SOME bullets produce VAPOUR - TRAILS. In the air. As they
            traverse to the target. 

            Dirt KICKS up at the feet of Bruce and Bill. They react
            accordingly. 

            Bill turns and  runs.  

            Bruce pulls out his gun.  Looks for something to aim at. 

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Loner! Disable! Flesher only!

                                LONER (V.O.)
                      Compliant!

            A lone supersonic round CRACKS. 

            Bruce hit in his shoulder.  Drops his gun. Staggers.  Runs
            staggeringly away from the police wagon. 

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Thumper! Commit!

                                THUMPER (V.O.)
                      Compliant!

            The SOUND of a grenade launched. 

            A pause. 

            A whistling NOISE. 

            The Police wagon EXPLODES in a huge fireball. 

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Disengage!

            EXT. THE SAS-DEPARTURE - DAY

            A black Ford - Transit - style vehicle. Exits through the
            Asylum gates. Spins its wheels on exit.

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Bloody-good field-exercise, that!

                                SQUIB (V.O.)
                      Except when Anchor fell in love with the
                      dummy.

                                ANCHOR (V.O.)
                      Look, you numnuts, the bloody dummy was
                      talking!

                                THUMPER (V.O.)
                      Why didn't the coppers run? Didn't
                      anybody tell them it was a training
                      exercise?

            The wagon exits past the small bus shelter. The small wood
            paper-sellers booth. The two billboards outside. Billboard
            notices torn, old, yet still readable.

            The "AUSTRALIAN" BILLBOARD

            "FEDERAL GOVERNMENT BUDGET REDUCES INFLATION BLOWOUT BY

            FOCUSSING UNDERPINNED CULTURED MINDSET ON MINIMISING

            SPENDING AND INCREASING DOWNSIZED OUTPLACEMENT TO

            ACHIEVE ORGANIC GROWTH."

            The "SUN" BILLBOARD

            "ALBURY PLANT CLOSURE PUTS TWENTY - NINE PEOPLE ON

            THE DOLE."

            INT.  HOSPITAL BED.- DAY

            A typical hospital bed. Curtained.  

            Bruce in bed Shoulder bandaged. Reading.  

            Bill enters. In civvies. Bruce smiles at him. Bill sits at
            bedside.

                                BILL
                      'Allo mate, still sore?

                                BRUCE 
                      Nah, aint nothing. just a flesh- wound.
                      What's it all about? Have you found out?

                                BILL
                      Not really. He was some sort of activist.
                      One of them "Exkerrimenters". Don't know
                      really. "They" kept it all secret. 

            His attitude changes to worry. Bruce notices.

                                BRUCE 
                      What's up mate?

                                BILL
                      It's Doris, she says they're going to
                      evict us, the Banks, that is.

                                BRUCE 
                      Everyone's shitting on us!

            He smiles, compassionate -- speaks hypnotically.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      Look at my watch... 

            He lifts his sleeve exposing his cheap LCD watch, exactly as
            Joe's. 

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      .....see it pulsing..... pulsing,.......
                      feel your heart pulsing with it......your
                      life pulsing with it......

            Bill looks.  Then slowly calms.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      ....pulsing, ..........so calm, .... so
                      quiet.

            Bill very calm. Hypnotised.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      Now, you ARE important........ Very
                      important.........
                          (pause)
                      First,...
                          (pause)
                      ... you must repeat what I am about to
                      tell you to anyone in need. In the exact
                      same fashion.
                          (pause)
                      Do you understand?

            Bill hypnotically nods.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      You will no longer listen to your
                      thoughts. You will replace them with
                      positive thoughts.
                          (beat)
                      Your own affirmation.
                          (beat)
                      Wallies giving you shit will get shit.
                          (beat)
                      Do you understand?

            Bill nods. Hypnotically affirming.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      Anyone wearing a watch exactly like this
                      you can trust. If not, then give them
                      shit, if they give you shit, and, only
                      if,
                          (beat)
                      Do you understand?

            Bill nods. Hypnotically affirming.

                                BRUCE (cont'd)
                      And, finally, buy an LCD watch exactly
                      like this one and do what I've just done,
                      and remember that it was all your idea.
                          (beat)
                      Do you understand?

            Bill  nods.  Hypnotically affirming. Bruce smiles. Pulls his
            sleeve over his LCD watch.

            INT. MINISTERIAL SUITE-5 - DAY

            The small private dining room. 

            P.M. Just finished dining. Opposite D.M.. Who has an
            expensive gold watch on his wrist. P.M. Fingers a business
            card. Nostalgically.

                                P.M. 
                      Are you sure your source has got it
                      right?

            He looks twice at D.M. Shrugs. Imagination. Thought him to be
            NUDE.

                                D.M. 
                          (not really)
                      Oh, he's one of us. He knows what's
                      "right" and "wrong". He must have. 
                          (smiling)
                      He's not a country-bumpkin! Not from
                      Donga-Donga.

            D.M. Starts to play with his nipples, through his shirt. P.M.
            aggressive.

                                P.M. 
                      That's not what I asked! Don't give me
                      your "floor-show"! I want the correct
                      information! 

            He squints at D.M. Not sure what he sees. D.M. Intimidated.

                                D.M. 
                      Yes, 
                          (beat, unsure)
                      It's right. "They" will be behind
                      you.....

            He bites his lip, not really sure, commences kissing himself,
            turns slightly and gives the "wank-wank" action with his
            right hand under the table.

                                D.M. (cont'd)
                          (beat)
                       ...for President....

            He turns his back on the P.M. Pretends to vomit on the floor. 

            P.M. Gets up absent - mindedly leaving the business card on
            the table. Replaces the napkin from his lap on the table.
            Turns to walk out. A few steps. Stops. Turns. Looks at D.M. 

            D.M. Totally nude. Playing with himself. Then fully -
            clothed. Scratching his groin. 

            P.M. Shrugs. Continues. Thinks.

                                P.M. (V.O.)
                      Bloody wally! Giving me shit!

            He looks at his LCD watch, exactly the same as Joe's.

                                P.M. (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      Musn't be late, got to stop these wallies
                      spending all our money...
                          (beat, then incredulously)
                      why didn't I see it before?

            He exits. 

            D.M. Nude. Fondling himself. 

            WAITRESS 2, a heavy - set female, enters. Fully clothed.
            Walks to his side.

                                WAITRESS 2 
                      Have you finished, sir?

                                D.M.
                          (lecherously)
                      Finished?  Why, yes, of course.

            Waitress 2 starts clearing the table. 

            D.M. Lecherous eyes for her. Places his hand on buttock of
            WAITRESS 2

                                D.M. 
                      What are you doing after you finish..... 
                          (caressing her buttock)

            Waitress 2 smiles at him. 

            D.M Notices the business-card. A plain card. Picks it up.
            Reads it

            "LIFELINE"

            "Phone (060) 242-9666"

            D.M. Looks in the direction of the P.M.'s exit. Smiles. A
            malevolent smile. Turns to Waitress 2 with lecherous intent.

                                D.M. 
                      I've got a hideaway in the Blue
                      Mountains. Would you like to come to a
                      party there? After all you paid for it. 

            He bursts out laughing then calms. 

                                D.M. (cont'd)
                      Oh, can you bring me a phone before you
                      say yes? 

            He smiles, lecherously, turns, indicates his lap. Waitress 2
            sits on his lap. Giggling.

            EXT. THE CAVALCADE-1  - DAY

            A white Public Service limousine. P.M.'s flags flying on its
            wings. Traversing busy streets.

            INT. COLONEL'S OFFICE-2- DAY

            BACK  TO:  The small larger office.  Army style. Colonel sits
            at desk. His name and title on desk- plaque. Passing time -
            of - day. Sleeping. 

            The telephone RINGS. 

            Colonel wakes, rubs his eyes, slowly picks it up. He listens,
            a short pause, then sits to attention.

                                COLONEL 
                      Yes?  Yes, Sir, at once.

            He puts the phone down. Back on hangup - hook. Urgent - like.
            Extracts a file from his desk drawer, marked "SAS FIELD
            TRAINING OPERATION ACTIVIST EMERGENCY TRAINING". Opens it.
            Picks up the phone. Dials. Urgent-like.

            INT. CAPTAIN'S OFFICE-2- DAY

            A smaller office. Army style. Captain sits at desk. Passing
            time - of - day. His title on desk - plaque. 

            The telephone RINGS. 

            The Captain a bit busy passing the time of day.

            The telephone RINGS again. 

            The Captain reluctantly picks it up. He listens, a short
            pause, then sits to attention.

                                CAPTAIN 
                      Hello? What? Yes Sir, 

            He listens for a longer time, scribbles things on his
            notepad, urgent - like and worried.

                                CAPTAIN (cont'd)
                      Yessir, at once! 

            He pushes the cancel button on 'phone, urgently redials.

            INT. SEARGENT'S OFFICE-2.  - DAY

            The small office. Army style. Seargent sits at desk. Passing
            time - of - day. His title on desk-plaque. 

            The telephone RINGS. 

            The Seargent quickly picks it up. Urgently. He listens, a
            short pause.

                                SEARGENT 
                      Panic station. What? Yes Sir, 

            He listens for a longer time, scribbles things on his
            notepad, urgent - like and worried.

                                SEARGENT (cont'd)
                      Yessir, at once! 

            EXT. THE GOING-1. - DAY

            MUSIC low background.  

            The helicopter view. The town. From the air.  Low. Passing 
            low over the town.  Buildings.  Streets. 

            PEOPLE looking up.

            EXT. THE GOING-2. - DAY

            Australian countryside.  From a helicopter. Low. Leaving a
            country town . Donga-Donga. 

            EXT. THE GOING-3. - DAY

            Australian countryside.  From a helicopter. Low. Across
            meandering rivers. Fast.  

            The SOUND of  a helicopter. 

            Helicopter SHADOW speeding over the ground. 

            The BLACK shape of an SAS Man, Leader calmly watching the
            countryside. Through the helicopter exit-door. His eyes.
            Through the slits in his balaclava.  Somehow, POINTING out
            the SHADOW. 

            Leader places his hand to his communicator earpiece. His eyes
            through the slits widen. Concerned. A short pause.  

            Over a radio communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Urgent! Orders from Panic! Listen- up!

            The Eight SAS Men assembled within the helicopter turn their
            balaclava covered heads in Leader's direction. 

            INT. INSIDE THE LIMOUSINE-1.  - DAY

            The P.M. In a white Public Service limousine. Rear seat. He
            thinks

                                P.M. (V.O.)
                      They mustn't spend the budget if June the
                      thirtieth arrives, just for spending's 
                      sake.  Yes, that's it! I'll give bonuses
                      to departments proportionate to budget
                      underspend  That's it! 
                          (beat)
                      No more downsizing just to keep those
                      buggers in a job.
                          (beat)
                      Make sure that Public Servants don't get
                      into power in companies sold
                      privately....
                          (beat)
                      Yes, that's it, need commercial,
                      practical types, none of this sub
                      contracting.

            The SOUND of a distant helicopter. P.M. Distracted by it.

                                P.M. (cont'd) (V.O.)
                      President? Hah! This is much more fun,
                      much more job-satisfaction! Haven't felt
                      as good as this since Bob tried to stop
                      "Cactus"!

            The SAS is coming MUSIC. A few bars. Low level. 

            The P.M. Nods. Smiling. Very happy. Agreement with his
            thoughts. A triumphant smile appearing. 

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Kill level!

                                ANCHOR (V.O.)
                      Kill level 90 per-cent.

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Steady!

                                ANCHOR (V.O.)
                      Compliant!

                                P.M. (V.O.)
                      I'll stop all perks like Gold Cards,
                      housing allowances and mistress
                      allowances,
                          (grins)
                      even "mister" allowances!
                          (beat)
                      That'll save a few billion....

            Over a radio-communicator

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Kill level!

                                ANCHOR (V.O.)
                      Kill level 95 per-cent.

                                LEADER (V.O.)
                      Steady!

                                ANCHOR (V.O.)
                      Compliant!

            P.M. Looks at his cheap LCD watch.

                                P.M. (V.O.)
                      If I get rid of those three, then there
                      will be them four...
                          (pouts, worrying)
                      but he's the worst,......got to watch
                      him.....big cock - sucking wanker......
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