Exterior, Night:
The National Archives. It is night, but the building is lit brilliantly, with
black satin streamers on the columns and handsome black and white banners
declaring this the TENTH ANNUAL HOLLYWOOD MOVIE GALA. B-list celebrities in
black tie attire are arriving in their limousines and making their way inside. The
camera pulls in from outside the heavy rotunda doors, where guests have already
started milling about with their cocktails, past a series of velvet ropes and
into the empty, dimmed rotunda.
We
continue zooming until we reach our three heroes, each under their separate
layers of safety glass: our intrepid hero INDY,
The Declaration of Independence; MAGS,
the matronly Magna Carta; and the plucky BILL,
the Bill of Rights. The mood is electric, and all three documents are clearly
on edge
BILL: Gee, Indy, I can’t believe it. Tonight is finally
the night.
INDY (solemnly):
I’ve been
waiting for so long. I can’t believe that the Hollywood Treasure might finally
be within our reach.
MAGS: Indy,
for the last time, it’s not too late to call it quits. You don’t have to do
this.
INDY: I’ve
waited my whole life for this day. You’ve seen all the same clues I have, Mom! The
ONLY THING standing between me and the Hollywood
Treasure, besides this bulletproof glass, is the map. I hold this truth to be self-evident: That map is here,
tonight. And we’re going to take it.
BILL: I
believe in you, Indy!
MAGS: I
wasted my life chasing after that treasure—I won’t stand by and watch my son do
the same. Fountains of Youth, Cities of Gold, Jobs that pay a livable wage; America
has been luring fools in with false treasure from the very beginning.
Sure, I
was drawn in by the Hollywood Treasure legend. We all were. But don’t you know
by now that the real treasure is in your
heart?
INDY: I don’t have
time for your sentimentality, Mags! Now is the time for action. (to Bill): lets re-cap the plan.
Cool jazz music, lots of deep bass and
occasional punchy trumpets, plays as Bill runs through the plan:
BILL: The Map Bearer will arrive early while
they do a final rehearsal before presenting the Best Actor in History award. At the signal, we each release the
nitrogenous air we’ve been storing up for tonight. The environmental sensors
trip, thinking our protective glass has cracked, and the alarm system tries to
whisk us deeper into the building to be stored safely. If we each stick a
corner in the gears, though, they’ll automatically stop, forcing security to go
to stage two. Stage two will lock the rotunda doors and trap the map bearer
inside! The room will fill with preservation gas, knocking him unconscious.
Then we just need to get out, lift up his shirt, and memorize the map he has tattooed
on his back.
MAGS: IF he has a map tattooed there. All you
have are stories!
INDY: Quiet, all of you. Here he comes.
The Map Bearer, soon-to-be recipient of the Greatest Actor In History award, NIC CAGE, enters the rotunda to start practicing his acceptance
speech
INDY: NOW!
Bill and Indy release their stored up
nitrogen, tripping the first alarm. The rotunda lights go off, replaced by
emergency red darkroom lights. A look of concern crosses Nic Cage’s face. But
something is wrong
INDY: MAGS! HELP US!
The MAGNA CARTA sits inert in her display case. The Display Cases for
the DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE and
the BILL OF RIGHTS start attempting
to descend into safety.
BILL: The second alarm won’t trip unless all
of us work together!
INDY and BILL look on helplessly, sure their
plan is about to be ruined—but then, Nic Cage springs into action. He cracks
open INDY’S display case, grabs the document,
and replaces it instantly with a copy from the gift shop. The look on Nic Cage’s face expertly conveys that
he knows that security won’t be able to tell the difference
BILL: Indy!!
MAGS: My boy!
INDY: Don’t worry—this was all part of my real plan. Nic Cage isn’t just the map—he’s going to take me straight to Hollywood! I
left clues leading him to belive that I was
a map to a secret American treasure, knowing he would plot a heist to steal me!
BILL: Wow, that’s brilliant!
INDY: Look after Mags, Bill! Suck on my John
Hancock, D.C.! I’m going to Hollywood!
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