PAGE TWENTY TWO
WIDE PANEL, a beautiful golden beach, waves lapping at the shore, a cloudless sky on the horizon.
WIDE PANEL, as before, only this time KILLEROO lands with some impact onto the golden sand. He’s wearing tactical gear, a tattered parachute trailing behind him, and he looks suitably bruised and battered.
In the background we see a trail of black smoke threading through the sky and downwards towards the sparkling blue ocean on the horizon.
CLOSE UP on KILLEROO’s face in the surf and sand. He’s not a fan of sand or having his plane blown out of the sky so he looks pissed off.
KILLEROO is on his back now, propped up slightly on his elbow.
KILLEROO: Oh, sod off.
WIDE PANEL, heading towards the tiny atoll is an armada of grinning genetically altered sharks (they look like DC’s Killer Shark).
Oh, and they’re all riding jet-skis. The one in the middle is the leader because he has a rocket launcher.