Shaky iPhone footage of darkly lit dive bar with residual checks plastered on the walls and ceiling. JESSICA (30’s, slim but fierce) knocks back a shot with a grin standing next to her boss, BRADLEY (40’s, towering and overweight) who coughs on the aftertaste.

Goddamn, you can handle your liquor. How? You’re tiny.

I’d blame my sorority, but it’s genetic. Thanks dad!

Jessica throws a kiss to the ceiling and then swigs her beer.

When are we gonna talk? Huh? Got time for a little chat right now?

About what?

The show! Mystery Now!

Jesus. I’m off the clock.

She coughs and slugs him on the arm.

Come on!

Damn! Take it easy tiger.

You’re impossible to get a hold of Bradley. Just trying to rub shoulders with you while I can. Can’t blame a girl can you?

She throws finger guns at him.

Boss.

Bradley sighs and turns to her.

I’ve been sitting in rooms all day with the network gods and they keep telling me we gotta start pulling numbers or else. Think you can post a couple Tik Toks dances or something? Maybe we change the format to be more sexual? Nobody gives a damn about murders these days unless there’s some tits involved.

Jessica huffs and rolls her eyes, turning directly to the camera.

Hey you were the one who asked for a chat.

Miguel, tell him this is stupid.

I don’t get paid to have an opinion.

Jessica makes death eyes at ‘us’, turns back to Bradley to prove her point.

Alright. Anything for my favorite producer and adoring public. Tits it is.

Jessica unbuttons the top button of her blouse and squishes her chest at Bradley who rolls his eyes at her.

While starting directly at Bradley, Jessics metes out the most pained tik tok dance you’ve ever seen.

So much for feminism.

Bradley huffs and gestures towards the camera and Jessica whips around to it and performs the same zombified dance.

Make sure it’s all in focus Kubrick.

Yea! Nice!

Miguel zooms in on Jessica as she mouths to the camera “fuck this”.

Webcam footage of the barren and disheveled bachelor pad of TYLER (20’s, both punchable and handsome). He slouches in a run down gamer chair in front of his laptop, unmade bed in the background, live streaming to a meager 153 viewers.

He holds a dictionary in one hand and a white energy drink in the other and reads out an entry.

Incompetent.

He looks directly up.

Wow. Rude. Lacking the qualities needed for effective action. Lacking necessary ability or skills. Unable to function properly.

He notices a new person has joined his live stream, ratcheting the number up from 153 to 154.

Hey! Thanks for the follow! I’ll be here reading the dictionary until I get famous so like and subscribe! We’re halfway there and just peaked at 154!

He throws a thumbs up to the camera.

The user count blips back down to 153.

Son of a--

We’re in the hands of a Paparazzi doing a hijack interview by ‘sniping’ the indomitable and magnificent DOUG JONES (60’s, tall, handsome, affable) as he exits the Burbank airport wearing a cream suit and bowler hat.

Doug! Doug! Is it true you’re part of a cult that brainwashes its members?

Doug smiles at him curtly and puts his horn rimmed tortoise shell glasses on.

He’s cooler than the cucumber in a mint mojito.

Don’t be absurd.

Do they worship death?

No.

Is it a Pyramid Scheme.

Totally. Worse than Bitcoin.

The pap rolls their eyes and tries again.

What does a big time guy like you need from a secret society?

Honey, It doesn’t sound so secret when you just shout it out loud like that, does it? Plus, the only ones brainwashed are people like you.

Doug waltzes down toward a taxi, the paparazzi follows him still.

What’s your involvement in this society? What do they do?

(dry)

Mostly Bingo Nights.

You don’t seriously expect me to believe that.

Doug peers down his glasses at the man and sighs.

Alright then young man. It’s the same thing everyone normally does on their own but we’re all doing it together. Just trying to find love, kindness, hope, and certainty in our shifting and crumbling society. It’s mostly a social club for lonely folks like you who need a damn hug.

He sniffs the air at the paparazzi.

And maybe a shower. Now. if you’ll PLEASE excuse me...

Doug saunters off. A burly and handsome man carries his luggage in lock step.

The camera zooms in on the man’s hand, with some sort of circular tattoo, but he walks off quickly and it’s blurry, unfocused.

MIGUEL (40’s, scruffy, short) is looking at himself through his iPhone lens in the bathroom mirror. Fixing his hair to look suave. He has an empty water bottle he puts in front of the camera lens to see the distortion. Likes the way it looks. Plays with the frame.

Kubrick...

Two scantily clad twins - or are they twins? ORO and PLATA (20’s, allergic to clothing, thoughts somehow both deep and fleeting) Are standing in a liminal chrome and water like space, cooing at the viewer. They dance languidly like video game character emotes in a GTA club.

Happiness.

Certainty.

Your future awaits.

A web address slams into the bottom of the screen. www.thedeathsentence.com

A flowing RED WAVE of BLOOD? crashes around them and suddenly they’re gone.

Only their voice echo in the space, which glitches with blood red chrome.

Fulfill your fantasy.

Visit us online.

We’re waiting.

Miguel is holding his iPhone, using lens distortion filters on it to see if he can’t get a beautiful image out of his own reflection in a oil slicked puddle.

Miguel!

We whip around to see Jessica walking towards us, starry from the filter. She rolls her eyes, leans in and touches his arm.

We’ve got to get back to work. You ready?

Sure. Could you do like a little pose for me?

Does it mean we can get back to serious reporting faster?

Yea. Sure!

She rolls her eyes, but does a little pose for him.

Perfect!

And ready for some juicy reporting on the crime in this fucking city.

She makes an ‘ugly’ face.

Alright. Let’s go Picasso.

Miguel and Jessica start walking towards the studio door.

The video cuts out to a blue tv station screen, then to bars and tone, then to black.

A mysterious and murky title card flies into view in an ‘Unsolved Mysteries’ inspired font.

TITLE CARD - “Mystery Now Report: DEATH SENTENCE”

True crime style re-enactment footage, intentionally cheesy.

Men in overfitting robes with vaguely Mayan themes sit in a circle outside a fancy Hollywood mansion clapping, chanting, and laughing with each other. A drone of ‘Palabras, Palabras, Palabras’ chills the air.

TEXT over footage - “Recreation of description from our Inside Man”

We hear Jessica’s matter-of-fact investigative journalist voice.

They call themselves Las Palabras. Translated to “the words” in Spanish, it’s a new age manifestation of ancient Mayan spiritualism, known for their elaborate and gaudy rituals, courting the Hollywood elite--

Shaky cam style footage of a stupidly fancy Hollywood gala. Gold glittering off every visible surface. Doug Jones shaking hands on the stage with members who are receiving white robes, and a single beautiful black feather.

The new member kneels holding the feather, and Doug ‘knights’ them with the traditional Mayan sword, a Macuahuitl (an obsidian bladed wooden club).

-- their anxious and fearful members --

We’re on the grimy and slick streets of skid row. Tents and trash are everywhere. In the middle of the street a dirty and totally disheveled man has duct taped several feathers to his head and is muttering to himself.

No don’t say it. Don’t say the sentence. It’ll happen. Nobody can say it. I won’t say it either-- No! Quiet!

-- and of course their signature ritual: The Death Sentence.”

Jessica is walking through the park as she speaks directly to the camera.

What is “The Death Sentence” you ask? We at Mystery Now have obtained exclusive insight into this practice through secret undercover footage and interviews with their former members. Join us tonight as we dive deeply into the lowest recesses of Hollywood depravity and the highest enclaves of tinsel town titans. We proudly present to you a Mystery Now special report - “LAS PALABRAS: The Death Sentence”.

FREEZE FRAME with text - “LAS PALABRAS”

We now see hidden camera style footage. Our POV steps inside a secretive tent, filled with incense and a Shaman’d out Doug Jones, about to do a crazed ritual with a short balding man and two scantily clad women (the two TWINS from the earlier commercial!).

A ritualistic cult started in ancient Mayan civilization, driven almost to extinction by Californian mission culture, has returned in full force as a new Hollywood creation. Complete with blood rituals, secrecy, and a complex network of shadowy elites.

The room seethes and pulses with the drums, the twins begin to shudder and writhe to the beat of drums, being played in a circle by members around the room. They take hold of two clay chalices and pour the blood they contain all over their open mouths, letting it overflow and coating their chests. The drumming intensifies!

According to former Members of Las Palabras, the two women seen here are known as The scions of “la oracion”. Whom whisper divinely inspired knowledge to the ritual shaman, character actor Doug Jones.

A flattering headshot of Doug floats into frame.

From what we can gather, it’s believed by members that these two women divinely receive a seemingly random sentence from “la voz de la muerte”. The voice of death itself.

As the room chants ‘Palabras’ louder and louder, the two women lean over to Doug and whisper something into his ears, which makes his eyes glint.

The shaman then commits the sentence to writing using the blood of the member who requested the rite, considered the ultimate honor in the society. Thus creating a written prediction of the death for their chosen member.

He smirks as he takes out a quill and wets it with the blood from a small vial the bald man holds. Doug starts scribbling something down onto a piece of parchment.

He holds it aloft and everyone goes NUTS. The drums rattle, the room screams in joy, agony, ecstasy.

Jessica sits on a red director’s chair, 60 minutes interview style, talking directly into the camera. She’s smartly dressed with a serious demeanor about her.

As we slowly pull back we discover the chaotic interview room surrounding has been eviscerated and utterly destroyed. Fire damage on a couch and rug. Blood splattered onto the white flats in the background. Police tape wrapping everything into a gory package. A single Black feather floats down into frame.

CHIRON - ‘March 3, 2026 - Three days after our first interview’

The footage you’re about to see tragically claimed the lives of multiple people over the course of our investigation. To honor their memories please pay attention, learn the warning signs. Las Palabras claims to be about community, hope, and comfort. But what follows is the true account of what we found. You can decide for yourself, is this a new age free love movement? Or a dangerous and supernatural death cult? A note of caution to sensitive viewers, the following footage contains foul language, substance abuse, nudity, dismemberment, death, and images of feet.

For a split second the screen GLITCHES to a RED WAVE turned CHROME.

We’re viewing timecode stamped behind the scenes footage of a cult recruiting video.

Doug Jones is being mic’d up by a nervous young production assistant whose face remains out of frame. An energy drink sits just at the edge of the frame.

Oh aren’t you just a sweetheart. What did you say your name was? Where you from?

Orlando

Our POV walks up to the side of the local news station studio in a voyueristic ‘found footage’ style.

CHIRON - ‘February 28, 2026 - The First Day’

Jessica leans against the side of the studio building vaping and scrolling through her phone on break.

One of the on set PA’s, (TYLER, the YouTuber from earlier) is schlepping a light in one hand and looking at his phone in the other. He trips with it, dropping his phone, but Jessica quickly reacts to catch him and the light as the phone clatters.

Whoa buddy, you all good? Nervous?

She smiles at him sweetly, picking up his phone and looking at it. She hands it back.

Ye-Yeah, sorry.

No problem. Just be more careful. Maybe we don’t look at hot women when carrying equipment, yea?

FREEZE FRAME on TYLER with text - “TYLER DAVIDSON”

His headshot appears as a visual overlay as the following VO plays.

TYLER DAVIDSON, 27, an actor from Orlando, Florida, come to Los Angeles with a dream and a dollar. He started as one of our production assistants and immediately drew the attention of our crew. As you can see from this hidden camera footage, his behavior would become increasingly concerning.

FOOTAGE CONTINUES

(to ‘us’)

Hey, is that thing on right now?

He mugs for the camera and poses several times.

Get my good side, will ya?

Okay now, let’s get back to work.

Tyler reluctantly slinks off and we pan back to Jessica, who looks up at the unseen camera man and drops her sweet pretense. Rolling her eyes.

Miguel, Please tell me you got that? I don’t give a shit if he’s the Bradley’s nephew I just get a bad vibe from that guy and I want him off our crew. Our ratings are already in the shitter and I can’t--

Jessica pulls more from her weed vape.

(coughing)

Shit, Miguel, is this sativa? Dude, come on, you know this stuff makes me more anxious.

Oh sorry.

We, as Miguel, shuffle around in our pockets and produce a different vape pen. Jessica snatches it.

Jess, he’s just a kid.

He almost dropped our equipment because he was looking at-- tits! I want him gone.

Jessica pulls the second vape pen.

We’re back inside the corporate training video for Las Palabras members. Doug Jones is standing around a water cooler in a break room with three other celebrities we vaguely recognize.

Doug tells a joke and everyone laughs, then he turns to the camera.

Oh hi! I’m glad you’re here. Deciding to take hold of your future and live your life to the fullest is the most important thing you can do to empower yourself to pick your path, select your joy, and make the most of each moment until your very last.

Doug strolls over to a whiteboard, already full of text and diagrams, flowcharts and mayan symbols. Absolute gibberish.

At Las Palabras, we believe that to live a fulfilling life you need to take action on your dreams.

Doug flips the whiteboard, and on it we see five words: CERTAINTY, CONFIDENCE, ACTION, SUCCESS, HAPPINESS.

Confidence gives you the ability to take action, and certainty can give you that extra confidence boost you need to take you across the finish line! When you stop worrying about tomorrow, you finally have time to live today. So how about it? Ready to take the first step - in the right direction?

Doug mugs at the water cooler guys, who all raise their coffee mugs and cheers him overenthusiastically.

Yea! You bet! Hear hear!

The video GLITCHES into a close up shot of the twins COVERED IN BLOOD for just an instant.

Jessica, box of donuts in hand, opens the door to the panel van and slides in next to Miguel. She huffs and opens the box, instantly beginning to devour the donuts.

Miguel has a soft vintage look on this footage, with the neon donut sign in the background giving this soft haze to everything.

I can’t keep doing this.

Donuts? I mean yea they’ll definitely kill you eventually.

Jessica shoots him a glare.

No. This town. This whole thing. It’s a fucking cancerous bullshit place to live. Everybody is angling for something and nobody really respects anybody.

Yea. I get that. It’s hard to connect in this town.

Exactly. That’s the point of it almost. It’s a town of nobodies and every so often one crab reaches out of the bucket.

Plato’s cave.

Jessica looks at him. Shrugs.

You know. Platos’ cave. Everything is an image of something and nobody is actually looking at the real thing. Just light and shadow. You know. Art.

Yea. I get that. It’s all about appearances.

Miguel zooms in on Jessica’s face. The neon from the sign glistens in her eyes for a moment and she’s impossibly beautiful.

I just wish someone would appreciate my reporting and not just my looks.

Our shot lingers on her eyes just for a moment.

We’re on the famous stretch of Hollywood boulevard following Tyler, who is leading around an invisible camera man. He’s streaming.

I’m here on the world famous Hollywood Boulevard to ask people one question - what do you do to be confident?

He’s interviewing a group of ladies.

What do you do to be confident?

Well I’ll take myself to the salon sometimes to get my nails done if I’m just not feeling myself.

Now he’s talking to a well muscled handsome man.

What do you do to be more confident?

I joined a boxing gym. Nothing says confidence like being able to back it up with your hands.

Muscle man throws a few punches at the camera and winks.

Now he’s interviewing a man with a SHAVED HEAD in a plain black outfit.

What do you do to be confident?

I found out my death sentence and it completely changed my life. Now I don’t care about what other people think since I have the certainty of knowing exactly how I will die. WHAT UP STUDIO CITY REPRESENT!

Tyler is a little baffled.

Wait. What?

Shaved head guy has already walked off though. Lost in the crowd.

Jessica is sitting in the darkened editing bay, looking over footage of her interviewing a firefighter. She groans and massages her neck, grabs a half empty bottle of gatorade and chugs the remainder.

You alright?

She just grunts at him. Her phone lights up and picks it up.

Hey Bradley. Yes. I’m doing alright. Thanks. Not my first time at a bar. Yea I remember our conversation.. Okay well where did you source it? Okay? Of course it’s from tik-tok. No. I didn’t mean anything by that.

She puts her head in her hands. Exasperated.

A cult? In Los Angeles? Well color me surprised... Alright... Sorry who?.. The fish man guy? Well okay. Yep. Gotcha, hot cult girls. No prob-- well yes it does sound promising. Yea, sure send the details to Miguel and we can chase it down like usual.

Jessica turns around and notices that she’s being recorded. She puts her hand over the receiver of her iPhone and mouths at Miguel one word - CREEPER.

(Whispering)

Oh. Sorry!

The camera lowers and Jessica turns back to her editing.

The camera slowly comes back up

We see grainy footage of the news van driving away from the studio.

Text over footage - “MYSTERY NOW: SPECIAL PRESENTATION: THE DEATH SENTENCE”

Text over footage - “LIKE AND COMMENT FOR MORE”

Establishing shots of Los Angeles

Los Angeles. City of Angels. City of dreamers. City of believers. It’s a town that shouldn’t exist, and much like its inhabitants - relies on the hopes and dreams of a brighter future at the cost of a grim present.

We see footage of people in Skid row.

Nowhere is this contrast more pronounced than the urban centers of the town. Grimy and slick with oil. The people here would certainly know something.

Jessica is interviewing an unhoused person in a tent on the street.

Have you heard of Las Plabras?

THE WORDS. It’s the words! Words. A letter and a letter and a letter on a string. Will hold forever humanity spellbound. Haha!

A homeless man comes up behind them.

Yea I’ve heard of them. Shh! Don’t say it!

Don’t say what?

My death sentence. Please! Its...

He freezes in place. His eyes suddenly blink rapidly and he wails.

NO! Nooooo! Don’t think it!

Jessica looks at Miguel (behind the camera)

Miguel, this is cruel. I really don’t think these people know anything helpful.

I think we need to see this. It’s the grit. The grim reality of Los Angeles

Find them. Say them. Write them. Love them. Fear them.

The homeless woman stares at Jessica

You want to find them? Follow the feathers. THE BLACK FEATHERS!

A beautiful and sunny day in Los Angeles. We’re in a backyard with men and women in bikinis, swimming, lounging, and generally being super hot.

Into frame floats Doug Jones, lounging on a pool float, sunscreen on his nose and sunglasses on. He’s holding a jar of MAYO.

Summer just isn’t summer without Hellacious Mayonnaise. Now with less fat!

Close on two twin-like women (ORO and PLATA). They’re drinking some sort of fruity drink with crazy straws and then get SPLASHED as someone has jumped into the pool. They shriek-laugh.

Back to Doug, who’s being helped out of the pool by two beefy handsome boys.

Remember, when the weather heats up, it’s time to spread em.

Intercuts of Doug Jones making various sandwiches.

Spread em’ on ham. Spread em’ on Turkey. Spread em’ on Roast Beef even. Life’s too short to eat with a dry mouth.

Video of the twins eating a bite of sandwich.

Back to the pool party.

So remember--

FREEZE FRAME.

Close into Doug’s glasses. We can see the reflection of the crew in them. We go closer and closer until we see a bunch of white robed individuals in his mirrored sunglasses. Each with one black feather.

Jessica is being recorded by Miguel on his phone as they walk around the touristy part of Hollywood boulevard. They’re being accosted by Spiderman etc. Asking questions.

Excuse me, have you heard of Las Palabras?

Sorry, I won’t be on camera for less than fifty bucks.

Well fuck you too then.

They walk over to someone selling t-shirts with a strange symbol on it. The symbol is an Eyeball with a keyhole for an iris that’s staring down at a doorway.

Las Palabras Shirts. Come get your shirts.

I’m sorry, did you say these are from Las Palabras.

Oh so you’ve heard of them! Are you a member?

Well, not yet but--

Oh you should try it! It’s really a great way to meet people in the industry.

Jessica looks over at Miguel and raises her eyebrows.

Come back when the sun sets and we’ll go to the spot! I’ll introduce you to everyone! Here! Take a shirt.

He throws the shirt at her.

Thank you!

She starts to walk off.

That’ll be a hundred bucks.

Miguel.. Pay the man.

Me?

Jessica gives him ‘the look’.

Fine..

The camera fumbles as Miguel takes out his wallet.

I haven’t gotten my sentence yet, but you should meet Mike! It changed his life.

Oh yea? Where’s he at? Can I interview him?

We’re watching Tyler’s self tape audition. A ring light peeks into frame as Tyler is flanked by an energy drink. All in front of a wrinkled navy blue backdrop.

He points a prop revolver at the camera with one hand and half-reads a script in the other hand.

-- We know the air’s not fit to breathe. Our foods not fit to eat, and we sit and watch our tv’s while some fuckin’ podcaster tells us today we got fifteen homicides and sixty-four violent crimes, like that’s the way it’s supposed to be. We all know things are bad. But they’re worse than bad. They’re crazy bad. It’s like every thing’s going crazy crazy. So nobody goes out any more. We sit in the house, jerkin off, and slowly the world gets smaller, and all we askin’ is please, please, PLEASE! At least leave us alone in our own room. Let me have a toaster and an iPad and a hair-dryer and a creatine protein smoothie, and I won’t say nothing, nothin at all. Just leave me alone. Well, I’m not going to leave you alone. I want you to get mad. Real Mad! Like right now!

He points the gun at the camera.

I want you to go to your window! Open it! Stick your head out and yell. I want you to yell: “I’m mad as hell and I’m not going to take it any more!”

He nods at himself and leans in, turns off the camera.

The black screen sits a little longer than it should, and suddenly we can see the shape of two naked women on it, silhouettes. Then--

We’re watching Bradley sitting on the interview couch with Jessica. They’re sipping on coffees.

Look I’m just the messenger, okay? But I need you to really figure something out to get our ratings up again. We’re against primetime programming and not to mention streaming numbers. Nobody gets their news this way anymore. We might as well be battling the corpse of PBS for christ sake.

Can’t we just turn this into a limited series.

I’m trying but I don’t have a buyer. People just don’t think this is interesting enough anymore when they can see a cartel decapitate a guy with a machete before breakfast on the internet. That’s who we’re competing with now. So we need to edge them a little more. Mix up some sex with our violence, you know?

Bradley, I hear what you’re saying but I’m a reporter.

Bradley rolls his eyes.

I’m serious, I have a journalism degree. What we work on are legitimate mysteries and not... Girls gone wild.

That reference right there is exactly the issue.

He sighs and stands up.

Look, I need you to do _something_ okay? The average Mystery Now viewer vividly remembers nine-eleven and that’s a problem. This isn’t a suggestion. Figure it out or update your resume.

He walks out. A silence sits in the room before Jessica looks dead at the camera, walks up to it, and turns it off.

It’s a large banquet hall that’s full of clapping famous people. We cut back to the podium.

And the award for biggest revelatory transformation and life maximization goes to..

He opens an envelope.

Felicia Day!

Everyone claps and Felicia day starts walking up to the podium, wearing a beautiful dress with a lush forest green cape on, cult symbol on the back of it.

The screen GLITCHES into a video of black feathers falling down in slow motion and just as suddenly we--

We see a Chiron title fly in for “SOARING EAGLE PERFORMANCE BOOSTER” along with a eagle screech roar SFX

The twins stand holding two small bottles of some sort of gas station type potion.

Soaring Eagle

You want to Fly Free?

You want to Hunt Prey?

But you feel too tired?

BECOME AN EAGLE!

Eagle screech. A white energy drink can sprouts wings and flaps across the frame.

Stop cooing like a dove.

Start screaming like an eagle.

And KILL like a raptor.

Close in on Tyler’s mouth, guzzling this drink. As he slams it down we see a single black feather as the brand’s logo.

BUY IT!

We’re the POV of a ring doorbell. We see Miguel and Jessica walk up and press ‘us’. The chime of the doorbell. We hear a man’s voice.

Coming!

He opens the door and we hear him talking with the two.

Hey. Can I help you?

Hi we’re from Mystery Now, the investigative journalism program.

Oh yea, I’ve heard of you. Interesting.

I’ve been put onto this wild goose chase for some sort of ... organization that can tell the future. I know it seems--

Oh yea. Totally true. It’s the best thing that ever happened to me. Happy to talk about it.

Oh! Wow. Yea that would be great. Can you come to our studio for an interview? Do you want a list of the questions or whatever?

Nah! I’ll be fine. Yep, email me the details. Thanks!

Jessica is sitting down across from Mike now, on the couch. He’s bright and chipper in a colorful sweater as he’s being Mic’d up by ROY, a burly and stout audio engineer.

I bet you think it’s bullshit, right?

Jessica looks up from her index cards where she’s going over the questions she’ll ask.

I’m Sorry?

Las Palabras. The Death Sentence. Las Voz de la Muerte. All that. I mean, who would believe it’s possible to know the exact last sentence you’ll hear before you die, right? It sounds so far out.

Well yes, it does. But it’s gained such a large following that it’s newsworthy, or at least my producer thinks so.

She returns to her notes. Mike squirms in his seat. Tyler the PA sets up a ladder and climbs up and off frame with a jaunt, but not before making a face into the camera.

Just gotta re-seat the 2k fresnel light and we’re ready to roll.

You probably think that I joined up for the lavish parties, right? Who doesn’t wanna meet Alan Tudyk? Doug Jones? Felicia Day? That was all incredibly cool, and it did wonders for my career, but please rest assured it’s all real. I’ve seen it.

Oh interesting. Sorry, should I know who they are?

Mike leans forward and pulls down Jessica’s index cards she’s reading. He stares into her eyes.

They gave me my sentence. I saw the ritual. Hell, I was there when they handed Basil Matthew’s sentence to him, poor guy. And then I was there the day it happened to him. I heard someone say Basil’s death sentence, casually, without any sort of malice or intent. And then I saw him die. With my own. Two. Eyes.

Mike’s pointing to his eyes in an intense way. Jessica isn’t convinced. She rolls her eyes and goes back to her notes.

Oh yea, what was their sentence?

Mike leans back and replies with great satisfaction.

Here. Comes. The bus.

Jessica looks up, deadpan.

So he got hit by a bus?

Mike nods knowingly.

Exactly. Now do you believe me?

Jessica shoots him a derisive look and goes back to reading her papers. Roy the audio guy finishes wiring up Mike and retreats back to behind the camera. He gives a thumbs up to ‘us’ - Miguel - behind the camera.

We’re all set.

I think we’re ready to do a rehearsal take.

Oh. Okay? Then let’s just roll it--

(interrupting)

--You don’t believe me, do you?

Of course I do... We'll start the interview with some basic questions about who you are then then I'm going to ask you about how you got involved in the cult and--

-- and about my death sentence, right? Don’t you wanna know what it is?

An almost silent whisper of ‘palabras, palabras’ rings through the room. Jessica looks around before replying.

Well, let’s wait until--

--My Death Sentence was the best thing that ever happened to me. Up til then I was so afraid of death. Fixated on it. I had to know what it was that I would hear before I died so I could prepare for it. I was anxious all the time. Until I actually saw - read really, my own death sentence. It was only then I realized that death was all around me the whole time, I had to release my feelings of fear. Live in the moment. Here...

Mike fishes around in his pocket and pulls out a folded, semi-bloodied piece of paper and hands it over to Jessica.

Tyler, still up the ladder, drops a wrench and it falls on the ground next to Mike. Who winces, paper still extended in his hands.

Ah shit. Sorry guys! I dropped the wrench!

Tyler climbs a few steps down the ladder into frame. Notices that he’s in frame and obnoxiously winks at the camera.

Yes Tyler we know. You don’t have to announce everything. And be more careful for god’s sake.

Jessica angrily snatches the paper from Mike’s hand.

That could have been bad. Right guys? Woof!

Jessica grunts in frustration and uncrumples the piece of paper. Tyler leans over to comfort Mike and gives him a playful pat on the shoulder.

Hey sorry about that buddy.

Tyler turns to attend to his wrench. Mike smiles, almost relieved.

Oh my god...Is it actually happen--

The light CRASHES into frame and SPLATS onto Mike’s head, CRUNCHING his skull into a BLOODY, SPURTING mess.

Everyone GASPS as blood pours out of mike’s eyes and smiling mouth. Tyler and Jessica have been SPLATTERED with it.

Mike’s BODY FLOPS onto the floor.

Jessica turns and the camera zooms on her blood soaked face as a drip drops off the paper she’s holding.

Jessica lets out a delayed and enormous HOWL, but before she can get the whole scream out --

FREEZE FRAME of a news style chyron - “THE FIRST VICTIM”

INSERT - Mike’s bloodied Death Sentence, with the scrawled words “Oh sorry about that buddy!”

INSERT - Mystery Now Bumper Title Card

It’s a commercial for channel 11’s movie of the week, a schlocky horror movie where a woman keeps getting a phone call where she hears herself die on the phone over and over at 11:11 at night. It’s told in a ‘grindhouse’ grunge style.

Every night at exactly 11:11, Toni receives a phone call. It’s from herself. And every night, the call ends the same way.

We see her reaction

Death!

B-roll of the chaos outside the studio after the incident from a cop’s POV cam. A gurney is being taken away. Tyler is being questioned by police. Blue and red light illuminate the corrugated side of the building.

--and that’s when the light gave way?

Yea! I was shocked! Total freak accident. I wasn’t even touching it. I was coming down the ladder!

But before we could begin our interview in earnest, Mike was crushed to death in a freak accident on the Channel 11 soundstage.

Now we’re in the POV of a cop talking to Miguel.

What can you tell me about the safety measures on your equipment?

Miguel is staring at the body cam.

Do those things record in 4k?

Despite our best efforts that day. Gravity remained undefeated, and our production was perilously close to cancellation.

The POV camera catches Jessica in the background, blood splattered on her face, vaping frantically.

INSERT - a report document is thrown onto a metal table.

Freeze frame on a police report document with a big STAMP on it that says ACCIDENTAL DEATH.

The whole affair was officially ruled an accident. Though believers of Las Palabras would claim otherwise.

Jessica, giving a summary to us to keep the interview rolling.

While the mysterious circumstance leading to the untimely demise of our first interview subject was disconcerting to say the least, the effects of Las Palabras were just beginning to be felt.

CUT!

Miguel walks to the front of the camera and hands Jessica some papers she looks at.

Good stuff Jess. Can we go again? Just for safety?

Sure. Hey, any more thoughts about that website? Maybe we could find an older version of it and see who registered it?

Great idea. But I think maybe lunch firs--

The footage glitches and the sound SCREECHES we briefly see www.thedeathsentence.com

Before we suddenly swap

CHIRON - “Mystery Now Special Report: DEATH SENTENCE”

Jessica, still splattered in blood, is pacing around outside the studio vaping like a chimney. Miguel’s POV Cam

Yes Bradley. Yes I fucking know. Fucking Fox News is going to have a fucking field day with this. Unsafe sets? Bradley, the new guy just dropped a fucking light on him. I don’t know how they do shit in Orlando but-- No, he’s got no damn common sense. I swear. Can’t we just replace him with a teleprompter or something? -- The insurance? Oh fuck. They’re gonna fucking MURDER ME-- Just come to the studio. The cops have a ton of questions.

She pulls the weed vape but it’s empty. She throws it on the ground in frustration.

She throws a silent temper tantrum and looks directly at ‘us’ - Miguels’ POV.

We’re in the wall mounted security footage of the editing bay, where we can see Miguel, Bradley, and Jessica (holding a bloody towel) are huddled around a monitor watching playback of the incident in slow-motion. The light impacts Mike’s skull again and they all wince in sync.

It’s terrible.

Are you kidding? It’s the best thing you’ve ever shot and it’s shame it’s so gory. The FCC would crucify me but think of the ratings! Its compelling!

Miguel shrugs his shoulders and grabs the mouse, replays the footage.

Hmm.

Miguel taps on the keyboard again and it replays in slow motion.

Jessica runs her fingers through her hair and picks out a piece of... brains? And makes the most disgusted face ever. She flicks it into the trash. Snaps at Miguel.

Miguel.

He stops.

Right. Well, maybe we could creatively edit around all the blood. Like Kurosawa.

Bradley actually considers this.

We can’t. If word gets out that we killed someone during an interview we’re cooked. Nobody would ever come talk to me again. I’d be finished.

Well it’s pretty plain here that it’s a total accident. A light that heavy would have fallen immediately if it was completely unhooked.

Jessica huffs. Towels her face off a little more with the bloodied hand towel.

Well I want that fucking PA off my set at least..

Bradley leans back. He knows how to deal with this.

Well. Look you two. In total shock. Just completely shocked. It’s true, We had a terrible accident on set today...

A beat. Jessica is looking at Bradley like he’s insane.

And?

and I’m pretty sure we can’t fire this guy who did it anymore. It would be a legal liability. Wouldn’t be showbiz if the guy who fucked it up didn’t get promoted, right?

You must be joking.

Tyler is live streaming the interior of his new office on his phone. It’s little more than a blank room with an ancient wooden desk and a tiny window.

Yo! I have an office now! I’m telling you, confidence, certainty in your life is all you need to take action. And it’s landed me HERE!

He high fives himself.

First things first, a poster of the hotties.

He starts thumb tacking a poster of Oro and Plata up on the wall.

Babes! Babes! Baaaaayybes!

The interview crew is at Mike’s funeral, where Tyler, and the rest of the crew are lined up with all Mike’s friends and family as they shuffle through and take a handful of dirt and scatter it on the coffin.

Despite our setback, we had a journalistic mission to uphold, and so we did what any good new crew would do, and kept digging.

When it’s Tylers turn, he notices ‘us’ - the camera - and sarcastically grabs a shovel nearby and tries to put a whole scoop on to the coffin. He’s stopped by Jessica and the rest of the crew with a scolding look. An old lady loudly bursts into tears at this.

As close as we had become to the investigation, journalistic integrity was dangerously close to becoming impossible to define.

Jessica looks up, directly at the camera.

Miguel, why did you put a camera in the coffin?

Miguel leans into frame, looks at Jessica.

For the shot.

Dude. Turn that thing off.

You’re right.

Miguel reaches into the casket and the camera switches off.

We’re inside Jessica’ iPhone. She’s recording her front door with a note taped to it. The note has the same symbol on it we’ve been seeing.

I just got home and found this taped to my door. I’m pretty sure this is the symbol of las palabras.

She takes it down and opens it up.

A single web address. A URL. An invitation to observe the cult or a simple recruiting tool. As I got closer and closer to the truth, the organization became more and more interested in me it seemed. You decide?

We see Jessica using her computer in one corner, Picture in Picture style, as well as a screen recording of a device. She opens their web browser and types in the web url.

This time we didn’t have to go find the cult, they found us. And gave us another piece of the puzzle. The website was modern and trendy. Extremely well polished, as you’d expect from Hollywood elite.

We see the site, it’s got Doug jones’s perfect face all over it. A small intro video is there on the home page, she clicks on it.

It’s the video from earlier, water cooler, Doug talking directly into the camera and then the whiteboard.

A small chat window pops up in the bottom corner, customer service style.

INSERT - Chat window - “Are you interested in certainty? Learn your Death Sentence!”

Jessica clicks into the chat. Types. “How can I learn my Death Sentence?”

The Chat is ‘thinking’ and then “We’ll contact you shortly!” It glitches out and her computer crashes!

We’re inside Miguel’s POV. He knocks on the door. She answers it in her pajamas.

Migs, Thanks for coming over early.

No problemo.

His hand reaches out and gives Jessica a cup of black coffee from a local chain. Jessica takes the first sip of coffee for the day and peers closer at Miguel.

What’s with the GoPro?

Random BTS. You never know when you’ll get an amazing shot.

Like at the funeral?

Okay. Good point.

Miguel steps inside and we look around. He looks at himself in a mirror.

But did you know the famous shot of the soldiers at Iwo Jima was a total accident?

No. I didn’t. Anyway, can you come check out my computer? I found a paper from Las Palabras taped to the door last night. Website URL on it. I’m not sure if it’s a threat or an invitation.

Might be both. Like the bright colors of an angler fish.

Jessica thinks it over.

Yea. Good point.

Miguel is looking at Jessica and her desk. It’s covered in crumpled coffee cups. Notes of all types.

Jess, did you get much sleep last night.

Jessica walks into frame, munching, crumbs on her ratty pajamas. She just gives him a look.

So I’m trying to have my tech friend run a reverse trace on the DNS registration to see if we can find some sort of building we can go visit. Maybe there’s a record of the site too on Archive or waybac--

We’re inside a lofi punk rock video shot hastily inside a dive bar. Roy (the sound guy from earlier) is slapping a bass and singing with his punk band, somewhat unrecognizable from his earlier look with his heavy makeup look, half kiss half beastie boys.

The song is a vaguely anti-corporate tune called “COME CRASHING DOWN”

You want certainty! You get fate! You need answers! It’s too late!

There’s a small crowd doing their best to ‘mosh’ inside this shoebox sized dive bar.

POPPY, ( twenty something, cute, instagrammable, blond) jumps up onto the stage and LEAPS off it into the crowd, then steps up to our POV, her livestream. A small title on the screen shows ‘Poppy’s On the Town’

This show is AWESOME! These guys is like redneck KISS!

We’re back inside the security camera footage. Watching Miguel take a look at the footage of Mike’s death, over and over again, slow motion.

He leans in, double clicks, and throws the image on every screen in the room. Makes it as big as he can.

Plays it in slow motion, and leans backward in his chair. Soaking it in.

He leans in and double clicks. Adding a musical score. Something classical. The Cannon fire of 1812 hits at the same time the fresnel squishes into mike’s bloody skull.

He rewinds it and takes it in again.

A knock at the door. He taps twice and all the screens go dark.

Come in.

Jessica walks into frame.

Hey Miguel, what are you up to? Isn’t it late?

Ah you know, the news never sleeps.

We’re on the livestream on kik with Tyler sitting around with a couple other white dude D-list influencers on sofas in the middle of a club.

Women drape over their arms, giggling at things they say. All except the two on Tyler, Oro and Plata, who vacantly play ‘slaps’ with each other over his lap.

So this is you we consider a good time?

Yea man, gotta have all the ladies in the club. How else will everyone know you’re the alpha. The sigma. The omega.

For real real. It’s the three B’s of bein’ bad. Boobs, butts, and bottle service.

He chuckles and the women around him placate him with their laughter.

Tyler, meanwhile, rolls his eyes, oro and plata stop playing and lean into him, whispering something we can’t hear.

Hey Quick, Want me to show you a really good time. Something nobody else here can give you but us?

You mean like a score?

No man. You love all this shit because you’re afraid. Afraid of irrelivence. Wasting your life. What if I could help you totally unlock your true potential. With certainty of a terminus that gives your life propulsion and purpose at the same time.

What in the HELL are you talking about? You’re on some stupid shit.

Oro and Plata lean into the convo, their limber bodies glistening somehow.

We know the day--

The hour, the minute--

And how it will happen.

Just then they’re interrupted by women dance up to them with bottle service.

The stream goes nuts about Oro and Plata’s weirdness. Someone in the chat keeps posting a ‘black feather’ emoji.

A handsome Doug jones is being made up, with a special effects MAKEUP ARTIST (50’s, mystical) about to apply a garish mask to his face.

We’re inside BTS footage of a movie being made, someone is filming the process of Doug jones being made up. It plays in fast motion until the footage suddenly dumps into real time.

Can you believe I get paid to cover up _this_?

He gestures to his face

It’s a fucked up world. We just live in it.

Ugh. Tell me about it. I work so hard on my talents and the average person has no idea what I look like. It’s so frustrating. The uncertainty of where my next paycheck is coming from is killing me to death. Every time I play a fish man or a tall monster I feel like it’ll be the last time I work.

The ancient mayans used to think certainty was a curse.

Oh yea, well I could use that curse. It feels like the uncertainty is killing me.

The makeup artist leans in closer and looks at their work on doug’s face.

You know. Some people don’t need to wonder anymore. It’s liberating.

Doug laughs with incredulity.

Oh you’re serious. I’m sorry. I guess that sort of thing sounds... Expensive.

Oh it’ll cost you. Just not money.

We zoom into the makeup mirror and there, pinned at the top of the mirror is a piece of paper with the symbol of LAS PALABRAS!

We’re back at Jessica’s apartment, but this time we’re moving and recording at eye level, we can hear Miguel a little bit different. Jessica opens the door.

Hey Miguel! Come on in. Look. I think I’ve got it. Or something. We really gotta crack this thing or else this freak accident that happened is going to kill my career you know.

Her house is becoming more cluttered. She’s clearly ashamed ot it.

Jess, you feeling alright?

Oh yea. Did you bring the weed pen?

Miguel offers it up to her, Jessica drops the pen she’s holding into the trash can and pulls Miguels.

Miguel looks around the house as Jessica rambles at him from different rooms. Wading through the rubbish.

Oh thank god. I was really needing that. Anyways. My tech guy found an address associated with the registering entity off the dns registrar and I cross referenced that with a list of businesses of the CA dot GOV website and--

She turns to Miguel after she starts around the apartment.

Since when did you get glasses?

They’re those new. Hands free. I can record anything.

Are you recording now?

Always.

He taps the glasses and chuckles.

Jessica straightens herself up, brushes some crumbs off her shirt. Flips her hair to one side. Finds her light.

After a few restless nights and days of searching, we finally had a name. Las Palabras is a registered business. VDLM LLC. And I have here--

She picks up a print out.

A listing of their founding members. We’re going to track down each and every one of them.

She exhales and resumes a normal routine.

Nice! Not sure it’ll work for the report. Might have to get you doing it in the studio or something, ya know.

Good point. Can you turn those off now? That blinking red light on them is kinda freaking me out.

Miguel’s finger comes up and taps the glasses and we go dark.

A montage of Jessica walking up to fancy Beverly Hills type houses and ringing the doorbell, demanding to speak to someone inside. Nobody answers.

Until.

Jessica walks up to a towering 1989 wonderland house, painted pastel pink. She rings the buzzer and a woman’s voice answers.

Who is it?

Hi this is Jessica with channel 11 special report of mystery now. We’d like to ask you a few questions about an organization named Las Palabras.

A pause. It feels forever.

I’ll be right there.

Jessica panics, turns to Miguel.

Oh shit. I didn’t think she’d-- Do you have the camera setup? Where’s the mics?

Miguel hastily hands her a clip on lav mic and another to point at the woman who’s coming. Jessica isn’t dressed for being on camera, and just kinda cleans herself up as best she can.

Ah shit. I’m not ready for this.

Up to the gate walks an all pink woman whose prime was probably 1989 sometime. She’s in her powersuit and her hair has more hairspray than should legally be allowed. She’s Angelyne basically.

I’m so glad someone came! I thought Entertainment Tonight must have forgotten about me, but I’m happy to be wrong.

She looks Jessica up and down, we’re watching from Miguel’s eyeglass POV.

Nobody brought food. Right?

Uh. No.

What an odd comment.

Well. It was nice back in the eighties. We used to have cocaine parties with real cocaine straight from tenochitlan. Back then everyone in the society was beautify and successful and nobody ever died. Doug took over and everything got serious it felt like.

As she rambles on Miguel looks around. He spots two figures standing on the sidewalk behind them, but before we get a good look a BIG BUS pulls up full of tourists.

A tour guide BLARES his voice over a loud speaker, drowning out Diane and Jessica’s conversation for the most part.

And this is the house of movie star Diane Diane, a star so nice they named her twice.

Diane perks up and waves at the bus with vigor.

And don’t you forget that!

Nobody waves back. Not a soul.

And next door is the house of Tom Cruise.

The bus ERUPTS with cheers and screams. Tourists PILE off the bus and flood the sidewalk.

Oh my god! Tom CRUISE!

He was so good in Top Gun Two: Topper Gunner, but really stunk in Top Gun Three: Toppest Gunnist.

A tourist THRUSTS their camera at Miguel.

Take our picture in front of his house.

Miguel fumbles the camera but rattles off a couple shots of the tourists. Kinda gets into it and ends up taking portraits, multiples. Telling them to pose differently.

Alright folks. Time to move on.

The wave of tourists subsides and eventually the bus pulls away with a shriek. Jessica is still talking with Diane.

An that’s when we realized it was all real. Every bit of it.

Excuse us.

Miguel turns around to see a bald man with sunken eyes, a black feather in his hands, and the symbol of the cult tattooed on his forehead.

Can you take my picture? We know you like to take pictures. We like that.

Uh. Sure.

The Cultist hands Miguel a 2000’s camera. It’s ancient technology. He snaps the cultist’s picture. The cultist smiles a very uncomfortable smile.

That was nice.

Miguel tries to hand the camera back to the cultist, who walks off.

You’re forgetting your camera.

Keep it.

Miguel looks at the picture on the camera. He checks the image he took and... the cultist isn’t there!

MIGUEL!

JUMP SCARE! Miguel whips around to look at Jessica.

Jesus Jessica. You scared the shit out of me.

We got it. She’s going to come down the the studio and go on the record! It’s a pyramid scheme, just like I thought it was. Exciting!

Jessica jumps up and down and hugs Miguel.

Uh. That’s great! Let’s get out of here.

We’re inside of footage of a modern glass and metal house. What looks like security camera footage. Doug is walking through the house, touring it. He speaks with a realtor, stopping at every camera to have her point it out to him.

This one covers the living room, and there’s also one on the driveway.

He faces one of them and smiles and waves with grace.

They walk outside to the back of the house to looks at a gorgeous infinity pool with immaculate landscaping.

And what about back here?

Yep. There’s one there and another there.

We see the POV of the camera as she points to them. There’s cameras literally covering every inch of the house.

And what about the basement? Are there any blind spots?

The realtor laughs, uncomfortable.

I can assure you that every inch is covered. The last owner was... into pharmaceuticals.

Doug nods bends down at the side of the pool, he dips a finger in, swirling the waters, he stands and looks at the horizon.

You really must need some tight security. What kind of acting did you say you do? Have you been in anything I’ve seen?

Oh probably. But I’m always in heavy makeup. Horrors.

The realtor shivers.

Oh. I can’t watch horror movies. They give me nightmares.

Ugh. Tell me about it.

They keep walking.

So how many bedrooms is it again? Would they fit bunk beds you think? How are the neighbors about noise?

It’s a beautiful night with the stars out in Los Angeles. We see PLATA and ORO walking along the beach, hand in hand, they wear flowing white dresses. One of them bends down and picks up a gift box, slowly opening it.

We reverse the shot and what must be a HUNDRED men all clambering around, on all fours, naked except a black speedo. They all stay back maybe 50 feet, staring at them with hunger, intent, yearning, fear. They claw at their skin, screaming in agony.

The twins open the box, inside they both pull out a chalice, they drink from it, blood flowing down their mouths and onto their shock white dresses.

The men all howl in lust agony, none daring to move towards the two. They begin to beat their chests in rhythm as the twins get messier and messier.

The twins move forward, marching in rhythm towards the men. Closer and closer. Surely they’ll be torn apart.

But then. As soon as they are close, the frothing mass of men suddenly take shape they form their bodies into a LIVING STAIRCASE, which the two women walk up with ease, all the way onto the tallest men holding them up with their hands only. The women standing on these men who have prostrated themselves into a living flesh staircase.

The twins stand in front of the moon, and turn to camera in unison.

CHIRON: BLOOD MOON - by PALABRAS CHIRON: Available now at MACY’s.

The screen freezes and we pull back. Miguel has been watching this in the edit bay.

Wow.

Jessica and Miguel are riding back from meeting Diane. Jessica is excited.

I knew it! Just a common cult. Nothing magical about it. Miguel, just one more interview with this harried old woman and the whole thing is gonna crack open. Can you believe DOUG JONES is the head of this thing? Who’s even heard of that guy.

I mean he’s actually pretty famous in certain circles of--

I’m fucking back! I’m back! Miguel, let’s get a drink to celebrate.

Miguel is taken aback.

Really? You sure?

Yea, why not? It’s a good day.

I mean you’ve never like, hung out with me when we’re not working.

Jessica rolls her eyes.

Migs, I need a shot of tequila right now. Don’t narc on me, okay? I’m just so screwed on tight from all these late nights I could... I don’t know. Explode.

Miguel smiles and pulls into a parking lot.

Jessica and Miguel are day drinking at the bar. It’s the same one Roy plays at. Dollar bills on the wall.

--in any case, that was the end of that date. As soon as I found out he was a satanist I knew I could never live down my reputation. Poor thing. I think I broke his heart AND his soul. Whatever he had left of it.

Jessica slugs her second shot back and smiles. Miguel is fiddling with his phone, finding new angles with the back lighting on the neon sign.

Alright Miguel. If you’re not going to listen to my dating horror stories then let’s take some photos.

Really?

Yea! You’re always fussing with lights and shadows and angles so why not have a pretty woman in your frame too?

Jessica makes a pouty face at Miguel and he chuckles. Doesn’t move.

Are you sure?

I’m serious Migs. Show me what you got.

Alright. Well. Here, turn towards me and hold the shot glass away from your face, and move to your left a little.

He gingerly touches her and positions her just in front of the neon sign, so it makes a neon halo around her. He adjusts his settings and snaps off a few pictures.

Can you look a little less like you investigate grisly murders for a living.

She laughs and rolls her eyes at this, and Miguel rattles off a few shots mid-smile. The photo he gets is genuine, beautiful, captures Jessica’s best side.

Wow. That’s...

Lemmie see!

He shows her.

It’s not edited obviously--

--It’s great! Wow! I really look gorgeous!

You do!

Jessica smirks and returns to her drinks. Miguel goes quiet, sucked in to his phone.

It’s my favorite.

Miguels’ phone buzzes and Jessica’s does too. We see the notification come in on his phone.

TEXT: Bradley - I need to see you two at the office ASAP.

Fuck. This can’t be good.

Miguel, slack jawed, drawn in by the image.

(vacantly)

Fuck.

We’re in the POV of a security camera. Tyler and Roy are taking down the police tape around the bloodied mess as several other nameless and thankless PAs are scrubbing blood off the floor and couch with big bottles of acetone and alcohol. Clearly named.

Jesus. The fumes.

In through the door walks Bradley, arm around POPPY, our previously met perpetually online influencer.

And this is the studio where we film our interview content. Of course we can modify this to suit your needs if you’d rather have something more modern.

Tyler peeks up and over.

Hold up. Is that Poppymania?

She looks over at him. Thinking face. Squints.

Wait.. It’s... BigMan?

Yea! BigManTY!

Tyler comes over and gives her a big hug.

Wow! This place is getting cooler by the second.

I guess you two know each other?

Met at streamer-con last year. You know Ty here is getting hotter and hotter on line right?

Yep. That’s great. Instant synergy! Can’t buy that.

Tyler slug him on the arm.

Eh, he knows. He’s just playing it cool. Right B? He just promoted me to segment producer after all. Speaking of which. B, surely Miguel is too busy with Jessica right? I’d be happy to produce for Poppy.

Poppy fakes a blush.

Of course. I mean, it’s really if poppy feels--

OH I’d love it. We’re basically married and buried together already.

Well in that case.

Just then Jessica and Miguel come bursting through the doors. Giggling together. Jessica poses in front of the doorway to the set and Miguel snaps another picture of her. She turns and sees Bradley with Tyler and Poppy.

Hey. What’s going on here Bradley? Got a new intern? I know you like em’ young.

Bradley turns beet red and stammers.

Actually uh. This is Poppy. She’s here to take over a couple of the segments that you’d rather not do. The social media stuff.

Jessica recoils. Then asserts her politeness. She extends her hand to poppy and they shake.

Well it’s really nice to meet you. What’s your name again honey?

I’m poppy! Happy to meet a legend! You’ve got quite the lengthy tenure here.

Thank you! Looking forward to working with you.

We’re inside Miguel’s POV as he jogs up to the door. We can hear loud screaming inside. He jangles the keys in his pocket and unlocks the door and walks inside.

Jessica has thrashed her apartment. Pillows and feathers torn apart, paperwork scattered.

That FUCKING BITCH! I BUILT this show and some TWENTY THREE year old is going to steal it from me!?

Wha. What’s going on?

He thinks he can replace me!?

She looks over at him and sees his red LED on the glasses blinking.

Turn those fucking glasses off.

Just as ‘we’ are taken off Miguels head we can see a figure lingering outside the window. With the cult symbol on it.

Bradley is sitting on his couch and Tyler is sitting next to him. Poppy paces around the room chatting on her phone with... someone.

You’re telling me that you’ve been a huge streamer online and I’m just now finding out?

I mean I couldn’t just lay my dick out on the table for you to marvel at man. You know how it is.

Bradley rubs his eyes. He’s too old for this shit. Jessica walks in looking a tad bit sexier than usual

Hey! You rang?

Just who I wanted to see. Poppy and Tyler say they’ve got something for us.

Yea let me call you back.

Poppy hangs up on her friend and touches her phone a few times and brings up a livestream of what looks like big brother. Several people living in a house together. There’s a black raven’s feather emoji in the bottom right. She shows it to Jessica.

What am I looking at? This is just Big Brother. Is this a new season or something.

This is the death house supposedly. Like a reality show for the cult.

Casa de Muerte.

Jessica turns to Tyler, saccarine.

Death house? A bit on the nose. And I didn’t know you spoke spanish Tyler! Wow! Aren’t you full of surprises.

You don’t even know.

Yea, they got a bunch of believers all together in one house and they’re doing the ritual live every night. I try and schedule my streams around it because it’s blowing up and I don’t wanna fragment my audience.

In the house the marquee changes - “ONE OF THE HOUSE MATES WILL READ THEIR SENTENCE TONIGHT!!!”

This is the wave of the future. Fuck the real world. Two million people are gonna watch someone die tonight online. THAT’S appointment tee-vee.

Poppy smacks her gum and gestures for her phone back. Jessica hands it over.

Great work Poppy! Thank you so much for being part of our team!

Jessica stands up and hugs her. It’s stilted. As she peels off Jessica addresses Bradley.

I’ve got one of the founders coming in for an interview tomorrow. Think we can have the studio ready again? This is gonna crack this hoax wide open for us.

You got it. You mind if I steal Miguel for a bit? Poppy’s gonna need somebody who actually knows how to shoot.

Jessica falters for a split second, and then.

Of course not! As long as I can have him for my interview with Diane.

A hall full of screaming fans as two masked wrestlers tie up in the middle of the squared circle. One wearing a solid gold mask and another a skull like mask. We hear the announcer’s voice commentating.

Oh and another struggle in the eternal fight between bitter rivals Muerte and Suerte. They’re going at it again.

Suerte, the face, does a hurricanrana to Muerte and muerte falls onto the ropes. Suerte goes for a face kick but muerte blocks it and throws suerte back into the ring. Dropping him for a brutal elbow. The pin is only TWO!

And the ref only counts to two! Kick out by the ever lucky Suerte.

Muerte pulls a chair out from nowhere and threatens to hit the other guy with it. The ref grabs it.

No matter how hard Muerte tries, he’s never actually beaten Suerte, no matter how much he cheats!

Frame freezes, we punch in. The ref is DOUG JONES!

Doug Jones. Again. This guy is everywhere.

A dimly lit workbench, Miguel is taking a video of himself soldering in the workbench, he’s working on the glasses, taking off the LED.

He tries them on and studies his work. Smiles.

Grizzly Man.

We swap POV as he studies himself from the glasses.

‘We’ walk to the door and hit the doorbell. Jessica answers it wearing a nightgown. She’s made up. There’s a candle lit in the background.

Hey. Thanks for coming over.

What’s up? Found another lead.

We walk into the apartment and she closes the door behind us. It’s... clean. There’s a bottle of wine on the table.

Oh man. Something on your mind?

Yea. I guess I have a couple things on my mind. Wanna sit and talk about it.

We go and sit on the couch, Jessica comes and hands us a glass of wine and sits next to us. The curve of her body cuts through the silk of her gown. We hear Miguel exhale a ragged breath.

Uh..

Migs. I know we’ve been at this thing together for a while. And I guess I’ve been pretty harsh on you. But you’ve always been there for me. And. The stories we make just wouldn’t be the same without you. You’re a great producer and I guess I’ve just taken you for granted.

Jess. Is this about that new girl? Because I think she’s gonna find out pretty quick that this is a tougher job than she’s capable of.

Well. It’s not just about that. You’ve always been there for me when I needed somebody.

We look over and Jessica is running her fingers over Miguels hand.

I don’t think I’ve appreciated you enough.

We’re in jessica’s bedroom inside miguel’s glasses. He’s looking at his own reflection in the window as he’s fucking Jessica. We barely see it, as it’s all a halated blur.

However we do see a red light flashing at us outside the window.

OH god. OH FUCK.

Miguel grunts and collapses. Flopping on the bed next to Jessica. He sets his glasses on the side table, aimed to the window.

We see a darkened figure put down a camera and walk off into the woods.

We’re through poppy’s streaming platform where she discovers cool stuff to do in the city. Poppy’s on camera, walking hurriedly with Tyler.

Oh my god you guys, BigTymeTyler and I are racing across hollywood to try and sneak a peak at the new viral experience from Blood Moon. It’s like an interactive art exhibit gallery thing.

They turn a corner down a back alley and are struck with a WALL of men in underwear, the same from the commercial. Poppy and Tyler walk slowly forward and Tyler reaches into his coat and hands them a single black feather.

All of a sudden the WALL YIELDS to them and forms a human pathway they walk down slowly. Poppy and Tyler narrating the whole way.

They walk slowly down the narrow corridoor directly to oro and plata, who are sitting on the living seats playing ‘pull my finger’ with each other.

We’re back in the interview room, which is still being hastily cleaned from the blood splatter with splashes of rubbing alcohol by a single PA.

A couple other PA’s gently place a large, fuzzy rug overtop the still visible bloodstain on the floor, and the alcohol is quickly stashed next to the interview chair.

Thankfully we demoted Tyler from working on ladders. His new responsibilities included simple errands like getting lunch and coffee, and never, ever, coming back onto a live set, much to his dismay

A set PA walks into the background and lights several decorative candles as in walks a rather nervous woman (DIANE, whose fashion and sex appeal seem stuck in the 80’s).

As soon as she sits, Roy the audio engineer begins his task of applying the microphone to her, and an overly made up MAKEUP ARTIST comes up to her and starts to fuss a bit.

Oh no dear I’m camera ready. You can go.

She notices a can of hair spray on the makeup artist’s belt.

Oh wait, do you mind?

She gestures to the hair spray, and the the Makeup Artist hands it over to Diane with an exasperated sigh. Diane copiously sprays it all over her glam rock hair and face. She’s coated.

Better than setting powder for this old mug. Never ever date a bass player from Reseda my love, it’ll instantly age you twenty years, now run along!

She shoos off the Makeup Artist, settles in and addresses Jessica.

Just to reiterate, I agreed to do this on the condition that you’ll keep me as safe as possible. Lord knows that cult is still trying to kill me.

She grips a rosary tightly in one hand and performs the sign of the cross, kissing the rosary.

The Audio Engineer lets out a grim chuckle as he tapes the microphone to Diane.

Jessica, going through her index cards again in preparation for the interview, instantly shoots a look at Roy.

Oh lighten up Jessica. It’s not like it’ll kill ya.

Diane grips her beads tightly.

Darling, What’s this about?

Nothing.

Jessica straightens herself in her chair

(announcing)

Listen up everyone! Under NO CIRCUMSTANCES is anyone allowed to speak anything except the business of filming! Okay? Roy?

Roy shrugs and continues working in silence. Jessica reviews her notes. Miguel crosses over to Jessica and fiddles with something on her shoulder.

Hey Jess, POV cam’s up. And uh. Maybe we should talk about last night sometime?

Miguel walks off frame. We can see from Jessica’s POV now too.

Do you still have the sentence on you? It’s a piece of paper, right?

It’s Aztec Amatl paper. It takes hours to make with the inner bark of Mexican mulberry trees. And of course I have it with me. I’m not an idiot.

Diane fiddles with a locket necklace.

Would you.. Mind?

You promise to not read this out loud, right? Not under any circumstances?

Of course.

She reaches her hand out, Diane winces, relents, hands over the paper. A small whisper rings in the room. “Palabras.. Palabras..”

Just please, my life is in your hands.

Jessica takes the paper and hesitates with it. Diane looks around, sniffing.

Wha-- What’s that smell?

FREEZE FRAME text - “THE SECOND VICTIM”

Until this point I had solely been impressed by the cult’s ability to instill fear in their members. A fear that this reporter deemed ‘unreasonable’. But what happened next shocked everyone, throwing the whole experience into a grim light.

UNFREEZE.

DIANE opens the locket and hands a bloodied strip of paper to Jessica. She hesitates to take it, shakes her head, and grasps it. Before releasing Diane whimpers at her.

You wouldn’t betray me, would you?

Just then TYLER slams open a door and waltzes in with bags full of lunch, blatantly interrupting the shoot. He knocks over several decorative candles surrounding the set in a ‘spooky’ way.

Tyler! What the fuck man! It’s not even close to lunchtime--

I brought lunch! Let’s see. I got ham, italian. Chicken Parm. I got one turkey wrap with no mayo?

Diane sucks air and belts out:

OH GOD NO!

The candles that Tyler knocked over have caught fire on the rug and alcohol and interview seat. Diane BURSTS into flames!

Shit!

We see from Jessica’s POV cam, we can see very clearly on the paper “I got one turkey wrap with no mayo?” which trails off, written in blood.

WHY DID YOU SAY IT?! AHHHHHHHH!

At this point everyone screams, scrambles, and the camera is tipped over. We see horrified crew members rushing to find a fire extinguisher and try to put out poor Diane, who’s running around the set knocking things down.

INSERT - Image of Diane’s Charred remains.

A walk and talk from Poppy!

Had the mysterious Las Palabras struck again? Or had our impatient and ham fisted production assistant accidentally murdered another guest? Stay tuned for the thrilling conclusion of our special report after these messages.

Nice! Let’s do another one but this time funnier okay?

It’s a commercial for a local mortuary, terrible local promotion styled with fog machine and midi music. We zoom through a liminal room lined with caskets as a country twang reads copy.

Planning ahead can be one of the greatest gifts you leave your loved ones.

A wolf howls and the dolorous tone of a bell play.

And if you happen to know how you’ll be going, why not plan in advance?

We settle on a single casket in the showroom. It slowly opens to reveal our speaker. A man with a grin and a facefull of beard.

Then come on down to Western Casket supply for half off! For this weekend only, we’re running a special! Come show us your death sentence for fifty percent off your eternal rest!

POV security camera.

Tyler sits at a break room table, face and shirt charred, nervously stirring a coffee and glimpsing the security camera.

A bag full of sandwiches is THUMPED down on the table in front of him. Jessica sits down next to him, wordlessly defeated. Staring at him.

She pulls out a sandwich and starts unwrapping it. Never taking her eyes off Tyler.

Have you thought that the death sentence is--

Jessica puts her finger over Tyler’s mouth.

Shhhhhhh-ut the fuck up.

She unwraps her sandwich and it’s a turkey with mayo. She looks at Tyler, deadpan, staring in his eyes. Sinks her teeth into the sandwich, making a show of it.

We were now two for two on dead interview guests. Perhaps there was some validity to the curse. Perhaps this reporter’s skepticism was unwarranted, or perhaps we have the most incompetent production assistant of all time.

We’re watching back the ‘mystery now’ footage as Miguel is editing it with Bradley. Miguel hits stop on the timeline just as the effigy of Diane burning is on every monitor.

You’re sure this is all of it?

Yea that’s it.

Bradley grabs the drive from the computer and the monitors all go black.

No backups?

No. What’s going on?

Every single copy?

Yea.

Good.

Bradley stands up and marches out of the room.

What are you going to do with it?

Bradley SLAMS the door behind him.

Miguel sits there in silence for a moment, and then takes a small drive out of his pocket.

Felicia Day is outside in her garden, tending to it, as we see on her security camera.

As she bends down, she notices two bald men in robes holding black feathers walking towards her.

Oh my god. Is it today?!

She takes off her gloves and runs up to them, one stops her with a palm. He extends the feather and Felicia taks it with both hands, exclaims, and then hugs them tight.

Oh my god! I’ve been thinking about this so so much! AH!

They hug her back and they all jump up and down, delighted.

I’m covered!

She stops celebrating and breaks off, turning toward the house, then second guessing herself and turning back to the men.

Do I have time to change?

The men nod.

Great. I look like shit.

She happily trots inside. The two men remain perfectly still in the garden. Watching the house.

Jessica walks with fury, eyes glued to her phone, making a bee line for Bradley’s office.

We can see in split screen what she’s presumably watching. It’s a tiktok long form video of Poppy doing a special report - on HER!

-- and when I first arrived on the set, something immediately felt off.

It’s a hidden POV of Jessica having her photo taken by Miguel, from the opening act, POV Tyler’s phone. Footage of Miguel and Jessica in the bar, drinking together, security POV

Besides having multiple inappropriate affairs with crew members, which I could overlook ya know - I’m here for women’s rights AND women’s wrongs. But I can’t allow myself to be associated with a wanted murderer

Footage now of the incidents on set.

My life is in your hands.

CUT TO: Diane Burning Alive in agony.

CUT TO: Mike getting his head squished.

CUT TO: Jessica’s face covered in blood.

CUT TO: Jessica letting Miguel into her apartment.

Jessica shrieks in agony as she barrels into...

Bradley is sitting along at his desk looking through his bifocals at his phone, presumably scrolling social media. He lets out a chuckle, then sees Jessica heading his way like an angry Asteroid.

Jess, uhh. Maybe you should sit down.

Bradley What the FUCK is this SHIT? She’s all over social media blaming me for these deaths! You and I both know damn well that your shit head PA Tyler is doing this!

First off wow this tone. Second it was YOUR idea to hire Tyler, right?

What? I--

Third off this social media video is doing NUMBERS and is RED HOT compared to anything you’ve done in the past decade.

My god I--

And fourth off legal called.

B--

Fifth and Sixth, so did the network and all the advertisers. Including those apocalypse bucket guys, and they’re basically unshakable.

Fuck the Bucket--

And Seventh off the police are looking for you--

Jessica double blinks.

WHY?

And eigth and final-- You’re fired.

The words hang in the air like a wet cough. Jessica is stunned.

Wha.. What?! Bradley. I AM this Fucking show. The whole thing IS ME.

Not anymore it isn’t. I’ll have someone uber your stuff to you. You should leave before security does.

Wanted?!

Oh yea. Didn’t you get a phone call?

No! I...

Bradley looks around, uncomfortable. A silence falls. Bradley picks his phone back up.

You should go.

We’re watching Tyler on live stream, he’s hanging out with a gaggle of beautiful women, ORO and PLATA among them.

-- and if you’re still thinking about dropping by you’ve got a couple more minutes until the new episode of death house drops, so come on by and say hello. Happy to buy milkshakes for anyone who shakes their milkers at me.

We summon you

To appear

And shake your milkers.

They titter at each other, the camera pans over to Poppy, who is heads down staring at her phone. She jolts up and winks at the camera.

New post is doing numbers! Praise the group chat.

You WHORE.

Our POV WHIPS around to see Jessica, absolutely skunk drunk, heading directly for them, phone in hand.

Oh shit! It’s our coworker!

Jessica has sped right up to Poppy, pointing at her.

You fucking stupid little girl. You have NO idea! It took me fourteen years to get people to take me seriously as a reporter and you’ve just come and fucked it all up in what? A week?!

Jesus calm down. I didn’t fire you.

This is not the right thing to say.

Jessica grabs a nearby milkshake out of someone’s hand, as a crowd has quickly formed to see the chaos, and hurls it right into poppy’s face.

Oh FUCK no!

Poppy shoves Jessica. Jessica slaps the SHIT out of poppy and poppy executes a perfect one two combination on Jessica, dropping her to the pavement.

Tyler’s POV adjusts to get both women perfectly framed.

The whole crowd goes WILD

Violence

Sex

Content

Jessica groans on the pavement and looks up, around her EVERY SINGLE PERSON is recording with their phone.

Stop FUCKING FILMING ME.

Miguel’s POV. He’s rushing into the emergency room, talks frantically to the clerk.

Jessica Chen?

The clerk rolls her eyes and points down the hall, where Miguel goes. We come to a bed where Jessica is laying, ice pack over her nose and left eye.

Jess? What happened? Are you okay?

Its real. It has to be. It can’t just be a coincidence.

What?

That’s the only way it makes any goddamn sense. Right? Unless. Unless I just suck?

No. Of course not Jess.

Jessica takes the ice pack off her nose and eye, she’s got a shiner.

Jesus. What happened?

Poppy knows Muai Thai. Apparently she does those influencer boxing fights too.

Fuck that’s cool.

Jessica winces. Miguel realizes he’s being insensitive.

I got fired.

What? No. Are you serious?

Fucking Bradley wouldn’t fire that dumb kid who actually killed someone - Twice! But me? I’m just a washed up local news lady. Nobody gives a shit what I have to say. They dress me with enough tits to make teenage boys oogle long enough to stop as I drone on about local ghost stories dressed up as news. Fuck me. I’m fourty. I’m not just a nobody. I’m a never was somebody. And.. And.. What am I going to do now Migs?

She starts breaking down and hugs onto Miguel, sobbing into his shirt.

Miguel looks at his own darkened reflection in the hospital room’s window. He sees himself holding Jessica’s sobbing body and he positions himself more flatteringly.

He looks up and adjusts the lamp over her bed to make the shot look more dramatic. That’s better.

It’s a beautiful red carpet gala, a faceless interviewer is talking with BRAD PITT (or some other named talent we can get for literally 4 hours), who has a small scroll of paper tied around their wrist as if it were a rustic bracelet.

And when you joined, how did it feel?

I just had this overwhelming sense of peace and calm. Like I finally understood not just the beginning of my journey, as an actor, a father, a human being, but it’s end. It was so liberating and unifying. A little bit like taking ahayuasca. And now I have a whole community of likeminded and talented people I can count on. It’s like being adopted, but better.

Thank you Brad! I gotta say, we actually went to high school together! Remember English class? We memorized poems!

Oh my god! Theresa! How have you been?

Fantastic! I still remember mine!

Oh please!

Because I could not stop for Death - He kindly stopped for me - The Carriage held but just Ourselves - And Immortality.

That’s lovely!

In the background, Doug Jones crosses the step and repeat. Brad notices and immediately turns to Doug, losing all interest in the interview.

Oh my god! Doug!

Oh. Okay. Great seeing you, Brad.

Brad embraces Doug like an old friend. Brad shouts at the interviewer.

This is the guy. This fucking guy changed my life.

Tyler is sitting in the dark, illuminated by only his laptop’s screen, scrolling through something. We get the sense that he’s not expecting to be filmed. He picks up a can of Soaring Eagle and sips it. Clicks on something.

He leans into the screen, we notice he’s got a fancy suit and bowtie on. He undoes the bowtie and mutters to himself.

He clicks on a clip on his computer and we hear the interviewer from before.

Tyler picks up his phone, refreshes it, nothing. Refreshes it again. Sighs. Puts it down.

Didn’t have time to pick me up. Bullshit. Send a fucking car Doug.

The parking lot of the donut hut sits, darkened, alone. The men inside make the donuts. Bugs flying in front of the security camera POV.

Out of the corner of one of the Cameras, we can see men walking into frame. All holding a feather. All in the perfume commercial garb. They march together, silently, down the middle of the road.

We’re watching what we must presume to be some sort of ‘big brother’ rip off. A waymo pulls up to the house.

Hey. They’re here.

Time to meet this weeks’ feather.

A chiron in the lower corner shows a chat - which is going BONKERS with speculation about who could be entering the villa - love island style.

The CHAT Looks like

ITS FELICIA NO WAY ITS FELICIA 🪶🪶🪶🪶🪶 PLEASE BE TYLER TYLER GOT SNUBBED LMAOOOO I HEARD ITS A MUSICIAN

We see the live stream go nuts as Felicia Day steps out of the car in the most gorgeous black glitter and feather dress you can imagine.

Oh my god It’s FELICIA!

Girl this is NO FAIR! Of COURSE you’re going to earn your sentence! None of use stand a CHANCE now.

Doug jones is driving through the canyon in a convertable, wearing sunglasses, chuckling with a smile.

He thought they would let him retire.

Just then we hear a SNIPER BULLET and a tire POP as an extremely fake video of Doug’s convertable flipping and exploding plays.

But he thought wrong.

Doug Jones flies through the air in the explosion with a machine gun and shoots the sniper dead in a flood of bullets and gore.

Doug lands on his feet and adjusts his glasses. Somehow completely unblemished

This summer, JONES IS BACK.

Doug looks directly at the camera and delivers the cheesiest action line he can muster.

Consider yourself revenganced.

A title SMASHES through the screen - REVENGEANCER 4

We’re very close up on Miguel, watching him install ‘us’, some sort of camera on top of Jessica’s fridge.

Migs, What’s taking you so long?

I can’t open the damn bottle.

Miguel looks down at his phone and adjusts the camera one last time. Perfectly framed. Then flips through different views. He’s setup cameras basically at every angle in her home!

Well can you hurry up? I refuse to go to sleep sober tonight.

Miguel grabs two glasses and the open wine bottle and scurries out of the room. Somewhere in the woods, outside the windows, a red light blinks.

The houseguests are all mingling around a beautiful pool as it looks out across hollywood at night. Everything twinkles. Everyone is drinking champagne.

So what was it like when you found out?

Oh my god. I was so excited and taken off guard! I was literally covered in mud from gardening but I also felt such a peace come over me because I know. I just know it’s going to be amazing when I know it.

The chat is going nuts.

7 HOUSEGUESTS ONE FEATHER ONE SENTENCE ONE CERTAINTY

The chiron reads - WHEN THE FEATHER RECEIVES THEIR SENTENCE, THE RACE IS ON: WHO DIES NEXT?

Someone CANNONBALLS into the pool and the POV camera we’re on moves over to it. Someone is dipping their toes into the pool right where Doug was standing when he bought the place.

Who wants shots?!

Everyone cheers!

We’re watching Jessica and Miguel making out on her couch, wine glasses in hand. Jessica starts to cry and Miguel stops.

Jess. I--

Don’t.

She kisses him again. Harder.

Miguel hesitates. Then gives in.

All the house guests are gathered together on a big sofa, watching a small door with rapt attention.

I bet it’s gonna be something long and weird.

For her? No way. It’s gonna be short and to the point.

Fourteen words

Six

THREE WORDS MAX CAR ACCIDENT I GOT “WATCH YOUR STEP”

She’s gonna cash in immediately I bet.

The chat is still going bonkers. Everyone is trying to guess what her sentence will be.

Soon the door opens, and Felicia comes out holding a small paper, a bandage on her forearm.

Guys! It’s HERE!

Everyone freaks out and screams with delight except houseguest three, who sulks.

What does it say?

She clutches it against her chest

Like I’d tell you.

Did that hurt?

Felicia looks at her bandage.

A little. But totally worth it.

We see hidden camera footage of Miguel, in his underwear, walking over to the fridge. He opens it and takes a slug of milk right from the carton.

We see from the camera’s view what he’s watching on his phone.

He’s playing back the events of last night. Drunk sex. He scrubs the timeline. Goes back to when they were on the couch and she was crying. It plays back.

Oh Jess.

He sighs and swigs the milk again. His phone buzzes, it’s a call from Bradley. Sends it right to voicemail.

Ugh. Fuck Miguel. Can you bring me a tylenol?

Miguel locks his phone.

Yeah. Of course.

He pockets the phone and walks out of frame.

We stay on the empty frame for a moment too long

A jail cell. Multiple cells. All FILLED to the brim with the loincloth men from around town. Each holding a feather. Each with weary eyes.

We follow a woman.. POPPY! Who’s fitted in a jail uniform being perp walked down the hall.

We pull back to see the two who are walking her, jack booted thugs, but... Sexy as hell. Are ORO and PLATA.

The throw her into a cell crammed with the men. Who SHRED off her clothes until she’s naked, excepting their own bodies covering her, then suddenly she’s in a beautiful BLOOD RED dress. She looks down and admires it.

Then suddenly the JAIL cell is literally stripped away, as the loincloth men move the flats and props out of existence. They bring to her a long and ornate dinner table where the men seat Poppy into an ELECTRIC CHAIR and fit her into it at the foot of the table. They all shuffle around and place a beautiful dinner on the table.

At the head of the table are now a quick changed Oro and Plata, back to their usual sexy outfits.

All the men scamper around the table, looking above it meekly, like dogs begging for a scrap.

We Sentence You

To a life

Dramatic pause.

Of SEX

The electric chair turns on and poppy MOANS, her hair comically stands on end.

A cologne bottle appears.

CHIRON: SENTENCE - BY PALABRAS

The footage glitches and we’re met with Oro and Plata facing the camera directly.

We’re waiting for you Jessica.

Tyler has setup a small picnic at the top of the helipad. He’s got his camera on a tripod and he’s checking the angle as he’s trying to get the shot just right.

Guys it’s almost time. Wish me luck.

Poppy comes up on to the rooftop and looks at the scene in front of her.

Ty, what’s this all about?

Tyler quickly taps a few buttons on his screen. Then stands up and walks to poppy, ushering her into his nest.

I figured it’d be a good day for a picnic. Just you and me.

Poppy is touched, plays for the screen.

Oh my god you guys, this is such a nice little spread. What do we have here.

She rifles through the bag and presents the stuff.

Peanut butter filled pretzels by Utz? My god Ty, you know my favorites!

Tyler does a product presentation.

And also the new breakable chocolates by larouche! They’ve got 60% cacoa so you know they don’t play about quality.

She tastes the chocolates and makes sounds like she’s really enjoying it.

And another thing.

He bends down and gets on one knee.

Oh my god!

Would you go to the Finale of Death House with me?

He’s holding two tickets to some event.

Oh my god YES!

Poppy titters and leans into Tyler, kissing him.

Guys, we might need some.. Uh.. Privacy.

She leans over and turns off the live stream, breaking the illusion instantly. Her face flattens out. We shift POV to a security camera.

Jesus Ty. I thought you were proposing and I looked like shit. You can’t fucking surprise me on live. You know that.

That’s why it works.

No. That’s why you like it. Because then I can’t say no. Don’t do it again. I wasn’t ready.

People love that no makeup real life content.

That shit is for middle aged women and no makeup is still makeup.

Wha?

She turns to him. Trying to soften the blow.

Ty. I like you. You’re fun. We’re good together. Our numbers are fucking fantastic together. But this is a professional partnership. Just because the chat is shipping us doesn’t mean it’s a ship.

Tyler takes it in. Shakes his head.

So this is fake?

No Tyler. It’s content. Look, I don’t have time for this today. I have a follow up for my brand deals.

She gets up to leave and he grabs her wrist. She looks down at it icy.

If all you wanna do is use me for content and then ghost you can find yourself someone else to be your content slut.

She snatches her hand back. Marches off. He calls after her.

You’re making a huge fucking mistake.

She calls back.

I already got us tickets to the finale anyways. Doug called me.

He cracks open a white Soaring Eagle and downs it. Turns to the phone.

He undoes his pants buckle and pants top button and turns it back on.

Woof! Technical problems.

He starts re-buttoning his pants.

POV doorbell camera. Two police officers come to the door and ring the doorbell. They wait around. Knock.

Jessica Chen, we need to talk to you.

They wait for a while longer and then leave

The camera GLITCHES and Oro and Plata are standing inches in front of the door camera for a split second and then

Miguel is sitting in the editing bay, every screen either a gristly death, one of the feeds from Jessica’s house. One feed of her house is marked LIVE as she sleeps on the couch.

We see him editing like a maniac, cutting together orgasms with exploding brains, Jessica coming out of the shower and burning bodies. Riots, Maggots, Kisses, Tits.

And BLOOD. So much BLOOD always.

A KNOCK on the door and all the screens wipe to Black instantly.

Bradley walks in.

Jesus Miguel where the fuck have you been? I thought I heard you in here.

I’ve been sick.

Bradley looks at him flatly.

You look like roasted shit.

Miguel is slow to admit.

Fine. I’ve been taking care of Jessica. She’s really not doing well.

Yea I saw the in-n-out video.

Yea.

Bradley clicks his tounge and takes out a thumb drive.

In any case I need you working Miguel. Here. Cut this in for our commercial break okay?

Bradley tosses him the thumb drive. He turns to leave and then turns back.

Why were all the monitors off? I thought you were working on something in here.

Miguel sweats, pauses.

Software update.

Fucking computers.

Bradley leaves.

Miguel loads it in, it’s a horror movie with a woman in a red dress sitting at a table in a liminal white space. He starts to cut and then we

The grindhouse style trailer for Inhabitant. A Liminal white space with a red dressed demon in it.

She wanted her lover back.

The red demon makes the cinnamon roll and cookie appear.

But she didn’t count on being trapped inside.

Montage of extreme POVs of eating cinnamon rolls and her being wrapped up in thread/ribbon.

THE PASTRY DUNGEON

CHIRON: Pastry Dungeon - this Saturday at 7:45

Jessica sits at an Alcoholics Anonymous meeting. She’s speaking to a group of people sitting with coffee and cigarettes.

I guess I thought I was done with this sort of stuff. I had been sober for.. four years? And then things at the station got hectic. I had a couple at a holiday party after not meaning to, it was the eggnog.

Fuck yea. That shit is never labeled.

But after I was fine, I told myself well maybe I had changed. I could have a responsible relationship with alcohol finally. And I guess shit got worse and worse. My job was hell. I’m a reporter, and the case I’m tracking was really stressful.

Wait. You’re Jessica Chen.

I mean. It’s supposed to be anonymous, right?

She laughs it all off with a small chuckle.

Anyways. My boss was breathing down my neck to be more relevant. Sexier. And my producer was always hitting on me. And now. Now I’m fired. And sleeping with the guy who’s been obsessed with me for years. I’m fucking everything up.

Attendee two has his phone out, and is scrolling for a video. Finds it.

Holy shit. You’re that chick!

He turns his phone around to the online video poppy released, showing it.

You’re that bitch that murdered the people she was interviewing and fucked her boss to cover it up.

Fuck. It’s her.

Didn’t two people die on your show?

It’s more complicated than that.

It looked pretty fucking simple.

Well it’s fucking not. There’s this organization—

Las Palabras?

Yes.

Jesus Christ.

No, you don’t understand—

Lady, we’re all here because we’re trying to _stop_ lying to ourselves.

Jessica screams at him.

I’m NOT LYING. I’m the ONLY ONE telling the truth! Everything is just bullshit and TITS.

Stop LYING you piece of shit and LEAVE.

He lunges at her and the other attendees hold him back. Jessica stands up and rushes out, distressed.

Another one of the attendees rushes after her, a kind looking woman in a tube top named HANNAH.

They stop just outside the building, dingy, hot, concrete and stucco.

Hey! Wait! Come back!

No. I fucking won’t. I can’t.

She throws her arms around Jessica, hugging her close.

Hey. Hey. I’ve been there. Really okay? I used to do a ton of porn. People would fucking shout at me in grocery stores that I was a prostitute. I get it.

Jessica looks at her, tears in her eyes.

I’m so fucked up right now. I have no idea what I’m doing anymore.

I bet that feels really scary.

Yea.

Hannah brushes the hair out of Jessica’s eyes.

Are you hungry?

Jessica nods.

Alright. Let’s go eat something. What do you like?

Cheeseburger.. Er. Maybe we could get some tacos.

Yea, I know a good place. Cash only though.

They start walking off, Hannahs hand around her shoulder.

Fuck. I remember when I felt like this. Just so lost and scared and confused.

Hannah digs around in her purse.

Then someone showed me this.

Hannah hands her a black feather. Jessica stops in her tracks. Staring at it.

Now I KNOW.

Jessica screams at the feather a rumbling, shaking, earth shattering shriek.

NOooooooooooooooo!

Hannah is gobsmacked. What’s going on?

What?

Jessica looks at Hannah with laser eyes.

YOURE ONE OF THEM!?

One of what?

She sprints down the street screaming the whole time.

THEYRE EVERYWHERE!

Footage of the hut. Jessica is running down the street screaming.

EVERYWHERE!!

The workers inside shrug and get back to making the donuts.

Our footage is 80’s style and washed out, a man in a suit jacket undoes his neck tie as he walks out to his car, flopping in with his brief case that flops over to the other seat.

Tough day?

You can say that again!

How taking a break with new breakable chocolates by larouche?

The man grabs a handful of chocolates out of his center console, it’s molten and dripping down his hands. He smears it all over his face.

Delicious!

Annnd cut!

Poppy steps into frame.

Hey. So it feels like you’re eating this like it’s chocoalte.

Well. It is chocolate.

It’s not chocolate. It’s luxury. It’s... Molly.

Molly?

I need you to act like you’re really really horny because of this chocolate, okay?

He shrugs.

Roy and his friends are livestreaming their post band rehearsal ritual.

-- mint chocolate chip. And what’s your favorite flavor Dean?

He points the phone at a guy who could plausably be named DEAN.

I think rocky--

Dean loses his train of thought, staring into the distance.

Roy looks over to his bandmate, then notices something in the distance. Flips the camera around to catch it.

What the fuck?

It’s all the marching men with the feathers coming down the street.

Roy’s livestream chat goes nuts

FOLLOW THEM FEATHER BOYS THE FINALE IS TONIGHT

POV a self checkout camera. Bradley is checking out his groceries at the self checkout. And up behind him walks a tear streaked Jessica. He senses a presence and turns around. Jumps.

Jesus. Jessica?

Bradley. I’m sorry. I promise I’ll do all the tiktok dances you want. Just.. I need my job back.

You’re making a scene. Did the cops talk to you?

Please. Here. I’ll do it.

She starts to do the most sad and sobbing version of a tiktok dance anyone has ever seen.

Jessica, stop.

She keeps dancing. Crying throughout.

I’m doing it.

I see that.

Isn’t this what you want?

Get a hold of yourself. What the fuck are you doing?

I’m doing your tiktoks. Don’t you like it? We can get views with it? Right?

Bradley gathers his things up hurridly.

Why aren’t you recording it?

You’ve lost it.

Wait. Don’t go.

She pops one of her tits out of her shirt.

Here. It’s a titty.

Bradley scurries around getting his groceries and leaves the store with Jessica trailing after him.

Jesus fucking christ. Put that away.

He starts jogging and Jessica starts running after him.

Wait! I’ve got two.

We’re watching the death house feed. They’re all gathered around, some kissing each other on the couch. Watching a movie together. It’s Revengancer 3.

One of the houseguests OMAR is eating a bunch of peanut m&ms on the couch.

Oh man, and then this part is my favorite. It’s when Doug says

Omar cuckles and throws a peanut m&m into his mouth. He HURKS and GASPS and everyone stops kissing as he freaks out a little, clutching his throat.

OH MY GOD WAIT THAT WAS IT HAS TO BE

A tear rolls down Omar’s cheek as he gestures to everyone in the room that he’s choking.

Oh my god! It’s happening! Should we help him?

NO WAY! Hey! Someone hand me my phone.

Houseguest two tries to pose next to Omar instead of helping.

Let me get a selfie buddy!

Hey scoot over.

Omar lunges at house guest three who dodges him. He stumbles around.

Houseguest four CASSANDRA walks in from the kitchen with drinks. She stops dead in her tracks with them.

Oh my god Omar! Don’t tell me I missed it.

Omar struggles to get up off the deep couch and starts stumbling around the room, trying to heimlich himself.

Felicia pulls out her feather and starts uttering a mayan chant.

Omar finds a chair and he’s trying to thrust himself over it to dislodge the peanut M&M.

Omar! Oh god! You’re dying!

She rushes over to him and kicks the chair out from under him, he falls on the floor, gasping, flopping against the floorboards like a dying fish.

SICK YES OH MY GOD THAT WAS HIS SENTENCE OH MAN SO EASY IZIPIZI NOOB

The room is silent as Omar dies. Still for a moment.

CHIRON: Omar has executed his sentence.

Then the whole house LIGHTS UP with PARTY LIGHTS and SIRENS, a FOG MACHINE BLASTS, and the song CELEBRATE GOOD TIMES by Kool and the gang plays.

The whole house starts cheering.

It’s the same bar that Jessica went to with Miguel all that while ago. She sitting. Drinking alone. She slams a shot back, scrolls her phone.

Through the door comes a tall man. Alone. He seems lanky, but well dressed. Effortlessly cool. He wears a pendant around his neck that’s scroll shaped.

Doug Jones sits down next to Jessica.

Rough day?

Yea.

She turns and looks at him. Then JUMPS out of skin.

Relax. I’m not here to hurt you. On the contrary I’m here to help you.

What do you want from me?

Doug gestures at the bartender who comes over.

Fridge ciggy. And whatever she’s having.

The bartender gives Jessica a weary eye, and then goes about his duties.

You’ve been hot on our trail. I’m impressed. Didn’t think we had anyone giving out the secrets just yet but I guess I was wrong. Tyler. What an incompetent moron. He got you all that inside footage and then killed all those guests. Tough break.

Been a couple of tough breaks.

But yet you keep going. After the truth until the last. You know what I admire most about you?

My tits?

God no. Your persistence.

The bartender returns with a Diet Coke for Doug and another shot for Jessica.

Jesus. What are you drinking?

Jim beam.

You should quit. That shit is basically lighter fluid.

Jessica shrugs.

What do I have to live for?

Death.

Jessica rolls her eyes and slugs it back.

So you’re here to kick me while I’m down with.. Compliments and shots? But you don’t wanna see my tits? This is the strangest date ever.

Doug chortles.

Everyone seems to know more about Palabras than me anyhow. I’m always a step behind it feels like.

People don’t know more than you. They’re just more sure of what they know.

Two people fucking died.

Oh it’s been more than that.

He swills his Diet Coke.

I’m impressed that you still care. No show. Nothing. Just a need to know. Holding on without knowing why. So.. Why?

I--

Maybe you don’t even know. That’s alright.

He leans back on the stool.

What do you want from me.

Nothing. You’re the one who wants something from _me_.

Want the inside scoop on the house? Wanna come see it?

She puts her drink down. Looks over at him. Taking him in.

You’re fucking with me.

Serious as a heart attack my sweet.

He sips on his Diet Coke. As he sits down the glass it’s in it shatters in his hand giving him a nasty cut.

Ah shit.

He grips it tight as it bleeds down his wrist.

Oh god. Put pressure on it.

She springs into action and offers her hand to him with her napkin. He waves her off.

It’s fine. I’m fine.

He’s bleeding still. Takes the napkin from her hand and sops up the blood with it.

But you’re bleeding. Here please. I can help you.

She wrestles his hand from him and the skin is MAGICALLY pulling itself back together. He studies her face as she can’t believe what she’s seeing.

What the?

My darling. I told you. I’m fine. Thank you for your concern though.

He shakes his hand off and there’s no more cut. It’s magically gone. He crumples the bloodied napkin and leaves it in the glass.

Fucking cheap glassware. I hate dives.

Doug hastily pulls out a business card and hands it to her.

We’ll send a car for you from your place tonight at midnight.

He turns to leave, but then double backs.

Oh. Here. You’ll need this too.

He hands her a black feather. She grabs onto it tentatively.

Doug saunters out, wringing his hand.

God that stings every time.

Jessica looks down at the BLACK FEATHER in her hand.

Looks back up. Doug is gone.

She looks at the bloody napkin.

Jessica busts open the door, her keys hanging from the door. Flips on the light and we’re blinded from Miguel’s glasses pov.

Jessica Wait!

We’re back! We’re in! Doug literally tracked me down and invited me into the death sentence house! Miguel we’re on the inside. Call Brad--

She stops in her tracks. From Miguel’s glasses, WE WHIP around the room as he desperately tears down graphic images of Jessica inside her home paired with death and sex imagery.

Sex with HER.

Death by HER.

There’s monitors strewn around the room playing elements on a loop.

On one it’s Jessica’s every day boring existence. Sleeping, eating, dressing.

On another she’s crying, she’s fucking Miguel, she’s shitting, she’s screaming into the void.

On another she’s laughing, eating donuts, watching Mike’s bloody body, watching Diane burn to a crisp.

On the largest monitor is a big editorial timeline. He’s been making something.

Miguel tears cords out of the walls and turns of monitors as quick as he can. Hiding all the footage and also the live feeds of her house.

We can hear him panting. Mumbling to himself.

No no no. You. You weren’t supposed to see this. It wasn’t ready.

Miguel what the fuck is going on here? Why do you have all this? HOW do you have all this? This is INSIDE MY HOUSE!

I can explain.

Really? What could possibly explain all this? How? Inside MY HOUSE?

I needed more angles.

What? Who the fuck are you?!

She stares around the room. Miguel looks at himself in the mirror, stares at her staring at him, repositions himself in the frame.

Fucking LOOK at me Miguel.

He repositions a floor lamp to see if he can’t get better light.

Miguel What the FUCK are you doing? LOOK. AT. ME!

Miguel looks at her.

This is terrifying. You. You’ve. I trusted you. This is fucked up. Beyond fucked up. Never EVER speak to me again. You’re a fucking leech!

Miguel moans to himself.

No NO. NO. You don’t understand it. I wasn’t finished.

I believe I thought you actually cared for me! I was just another tool to you. You USED ME. FUCK YOU!

Wait! Jessica! I love you! You know it’s true!

Your fucking love is just another angle you’re obsessed with. You never ONCE saw me.

She storms out and slams the door behind her.

Miguel looks at himself in the mirror and screams at himself.

I FUCKING HATE YOU. YOU FUCKED IT ALL UP YOU SHIT.

And he SMASHES the mirror with his fist. Goes into a RAGE and smashes his hand through the wall. We’re inside his POV, trapped, as he rages around the room.

He finds his beloved camera and takes it with both hands and SMASHES it on his workbench, shattering it. Then each expensive lens.

One by one he crushes it to a pulp and mangles his hands and fingers at the same time. Screaming in agony. Glass in his palms. Blood on the lenses.

And when he’s done he collapses onto the floor.

God. What have I done?

Our POV, his GLASSES flop off his face and we see him now from the ground, a wreck of a man.

He notices them and pauses.

A bustling night on Hollywood blvd. We’re in front of the Chinese theater.

Suddenly we see him, a feather man in a loin cloth. Walking briskly in one direction.

He bumps a guy dressed like Jack sparrow.

Hey watch it pal.

The feather man says nothing, but continues walking.

Now there’s another one, he walks right into a hot dog vendor’s cart and almost tips it over.

AY! CUIDADO!

But he’s barely there, unreactive to anything around him.

Two, now four more appear. All walking the same direction.

A tourist couple takes a video on their iPhones. One speaks.

Which movie is this for you think?

Maybe Jurrasic Park?

They shrug and go back to life. Suddenly there’s twenty of the men, walking in traffic with no attention to safety, just speed walking purpose.

As if they were arrows shot from a bow, with only the purpose of arriving... somewhere.

Jessica walks up and gets into the news van. Locks the door and hangs her head. She groans. Then suddenly realizes. She looks in the back, checks the headboard, looks around for a hidden camera.

Her phone buzzes and it makes her jump.

Jesus Christ.

It’s... TYLER calling? She picks up

Tyler?

Donut hut. Thirty minutes. Come alone.

What?

Jesus. Meet me at donut hut.

I’m across town. Can we do in an hour.

Tyler sighs.

Sure. An hour.

She hangs up, turns the car on and the radio starts up immediately.

Hundreds of men wearing only loincloths have been seen--

She clicks it off and drives away.

Jessica pulls up in the news van and parks it. Sitting on a red bench is Tyler, on the table. He’s got on a fur coat and funky glasses even though it’s night. Really doing his best to mimic Tyler Durden. Sitting next to him is Oro and Plata.

Jessica hops out and crosses her arms. Oro feeds plata a bite of blueberry cake donut and then oro sips Tylers coffee and hands it back to him.

Oh so you’ve been part of the cult this whole time then?

Fuck you’re good. How’d you know?

Sometime after Diane died and you livestreamed with these two from the club. I just didn’t know if you killed them on purpose or on accident yet.

Sorta both. Fuck. I figured I’d be able to do a big reveal or whatever.

Oro and Plata giggle.

What do you mean sorta?

Well after I joined the cult found out about some people’s sentences and decided to see if it was real or not. The first one felt like a fluke so I figured...

Are you fucking serious?

Well it made for great television right? I mean if you had put that shit out before Poppy did you’d be collecting your awards now. Right?

Jessica sighs, looks over at the two girls playing ‘slaps’ with each other.

Aren’t they going to be pissed you’re telling me all this?

They stop and turn in lock rhythm to Jessica.

Oh no.

We don’t care.

The one thing I couldn’t figure out was how you got the job at the station.

Oh I just showed up and told them I was your nephew and was new. Turns out basing your talent around nepotism really works.

You got hired because you said you were related to _me_? I’m flattered.

The twins titter.

If that’s all then I should go.

Tyler panics and stands up.

Wait! I..

Jessica smirks a little and pauses, back to Tyler.

I can get you into the house.

Doug can get me into the house honey.

Wait. Doug?

Jessica turns to him smugly, walks up and takes his coffee from him, sips it. Keeps it.

Yea Doug Jones. You know. The guy who channels death.

Actually

Umm.

He doesn’t.

Jessica looks at the women.

You two are a pair.

They wink at Jessica and blow her a kiss.

Yes we’re quite a pair.

A pair of amazing.

Tits.

Everyone says tits. The twins in delight, Jessica in despair. Jessica sighs.

Lord I know it. Ladies. Let me give you some free advice. Make your money while they’re perky and don’t ever get into local news.

Look I know how this whole thing works okay?

Me too. These two twits act like they’re doing some sort of ritual and then tell Doug some bullshit to write down and then he does it and everyone acts like it’s a big deal.

The twins blow raspberries and roll their eyes.

She knows

Of certainty

But not truth

Nor beauty.

Jessica looks at them.

Fine then. How does it all work?

We hear the voices

Listen to them all

Past

Present

And future.

The twins stand and come closer to her, seductive but non threatening.

And we listen

To the noise

See all the endings

Experience each potential

And channel it forward

They put their hands on her and whisper into her ears.

We usher the sounds

Through our vessels

Into that which chooses

Their final moment

And gives it form.

Written as their Death Sentence

Though the ribbons snipped

Leave further threads

That he harvests

They both kiss her on the cheek and withdraw.

Tyler stands up and talks to Jessica.

Doug is just making up the sentences! Whatever the fuck he wants them to be. That’s why they’re so fucking stupid.

But they just said that Doug only writes it. So who is coming up with the phrase?

He writes them down or something. I’m pretty sure he’s got copies he keeps in his office or something. I’ve seen him rifling through papers after each ceremony.

A silence falls. Jessica thinks.

What’s going on? Why aren’t you impressed with me?

So you’re saying that it IS magical? And Doug has like.. A spell book or something he keeps.

Yea I guess. That’s some shit I never told Poppy either. So what’s up? Are we a team or not? I wanna take down this stupid fucking streaming cult.

Why the change of heart?

Being the guy who exposes Death House is worth more views than being the guy on Death House.

And?

And Doug chose Poppy over me. Poppy fucked me over. So now I get to expose the cult, ruin both of them, and probably triple my numbers. Win WIN WIN.

The twins titter and Ahegao.

Jessica looks down at her watch, it’s 11:23.

Fuck I gotta go. Meet me at the death house tonight. I’ll be there at midnight.

A soaring eagle. We see it in the sky. It lands on a cactus, eating a snake.

Jessica is driving back to her house. Her phone rings and she picks it up.

Jessica?

What do you want?

Damn. Fine. Straight to the point. Where’s Miguel?

How should I know.

Because you two are...

A silence

Are you okay?

Jessica plays it cool. Like a real journalist.

I’m fine Bradley. You fired me. Remember?

Yea. I remember. Well if it’s any consolation I’m probably out of a job too soon. You’re the first person to take my call in a while.

Why not call Poppy?

She doesn’t answer.

Jessica rolls her eyes.

Look I have to go. I’m getting into the stupid reality show death house. Got a personal invite from Doug.

The line goes silent.

Look be careful okay? This shit is getting out of hand. We already got two people killed.

I’m starting to think you might be right.

And have you looked around outside? Are you going in with Miguel at least?

Jessica is quiet.

We’re not working together anymore. I don’t want to talk about it.

Want me to send someone else with you?

Tyler is gonna meet me there.

Jesus Christ. The fuck up?

Yea. And by the way he’s not my nephew.

Fucker lied just to get into the crew? Smart.

Jessica cracks a smile. She parks it and notices a limo outside her house.

Hey I gotta go.

Don’t fucking die.

Whatever.

A beat.

Alright but no promises. You might have to find another hot set of tits to do the stupid show.

Jess--

Click.

Another car pulls up to the mansion, the chat goes nuts.

WAIT ANOTHER FEATHER WHO WHO WHO SURPRISE ENTRANCE

As the car stops and the door opens, all the houseguests inside pour out to greet her. Jessica steps out.

Hey guys! Can I come in?

WHAT IS SHE DOING HERE ITS THE NEWS GIRL FUCK YEA CRISPY TIME

Out from the house strides DOUG JONES himself, he’s beaming.

Welcome to the House, Jessica Chen!

He gestures and everyone claps and cheers!

Jessica steps forward and walks toward Doug, who daintily takes her hand and leads her inside.

As Jessica is led inside she spies Tyler, still dressed like dollar store Tyler dude, sitting with the twins on the couch, lounging and sipping an energy drink.

Felicia Day excitedly talks at Poppy, seated next to them.

Poppy stares a hole through Jessica as she walks through.

The rest of the houseguests file in, seated on the couch, Doug then ‘presents’ Jessica to everyone.

I take great pleasure in introducing our newest pledge, Jessica Chen!

The room claps except poppy, who just keeps staring a hole in Jessica’s chest.

Jessica looks back at Doug, uncertain.

The main room has been somewhat transformed. It’s full of champagne, red carpet, step and repeat, photographers, and Loincloth’d followers waiting on everyone’s needs.

There are live viewer counts, photo booths, and perfume bottles. Like an oscars after party.

What’s going on?

Oh darling, don’t you keep up with the weather?

It’s the blood moon! A harvest moon!

Doug smirks. Nods.

One of us will die tonight in an especially horrific way! Isn’t it neat!?

Certainly going to be memorable. Check the screens.

We see on the screens several spaces in and around Los Angeles that are being prepared by the loincloth men. Making stages, setting up perfume activations.

Now Jessica, without further ado. Please come into my office, so I might give you the thing you’ve been searching for this whole time. CERTAINTY!

He claps his hands and the twins spring up, Tyler chasing after them. The whole lot file into a back room.

Tyler steals a look at Jessica, like a scalded dog. He subtly shakes his head ‘no’.

They’re ushered into--

As soon as everyone is inside two loincloth men shut the doors from the outside.

We’re inside Doug’s private office inside the house. It’s very different from the outside. Dingy, dirty, sprawling. Like a real Hollywood office and not something from a set. On the walls hang posters of the REVENGER movies, each starring Doug jones.

Doug sits behind his desk in a ‘directors chair’ style folding chair that has his name monogrammed into it. He leans over a stack of screenplays on his desk and tents his hands into a power pose. A small scrape opens on his hand where the bottle smashed through. He rolls his eyes at it.

So.. I guess I have to be part of the community now?

Doug stares at Tyler. Icy. Not even paying attention to Jessica.

Tyler. Apologize.

An uncomfortable silence.

I’m sorry?

Not good enough.

The twins are playing pull my finger in the back of the room.

(to Jessica)

You wanted to understand how this all works? Well Tyler here is going to demonstrate.

No. Please. Wait.

He doesn’t have a sentence yet?

The twins have moved forward, each have a hand on Tyler’s back and cheek. Caressing him.

What’s this about?

Tyler here is playing both sides. He was our inside man at Mystery Now, but now he’s only playing for one team. Team Tyler. Only giving a fuck about his own fame and fortune. All the livestreaming. Manosphere shit. Who do you think turned you on to all that? And what do I get in return? Disloyalty? Well it’s time to bring this bitch to heel.

Doug snaps his fingers at the twins.

Wait. I can explain.

Come on Doug. This kid is just an idiot. What did you expect.

Hey!

Doug laughs.

He was a useful idiot. And he can be useful again. Proving my power over LIFE and DEATH!

He looks pointedly at the twins.

Do it!

They shake their heads.

Ladies. I DEMAND you channel the power of your ancestors to give me his life force!

Oro and Plata shake their heads.

No. We cannot

We like him.

He’s funny.

Doug stands in his chair, points at them with vengeance.

I’ll remind you two skinny bitches where I found you. In a fucking DEL TACO in RESEDA working the counters. Now you two motherfuckers are going to give me his fucking palabras right now or else I’ll call border patrol and get you sent back to fucking Tijuana doing ping pong and donkey shows where you belong faster than I can say “La Voz de La Muerte”.

They look sullenly at each other, nod, and begin to channel. Their eyes roll into the back of their head and they look like they’re having an orgasm. Then just as suddenly they both lean into Doug and whisper tones that aren’t even words basically.

Tyler is horrified.

NO! DONT! I DONT WANT IT!

Doug cackles and flips open his stack of screenplays. Finds a line in the screenplay and scribbles something next to it. Then scribbles on a free piece of Cult paper and pockets it.

Tyler absolutely LOSES it.

Are you SERIOUS?! I thought that you would--

Doug makes a shushing face at him.

Careful Tyler. Wouldn’t want me to say your sentence. Would you?

Tyler slams his fists on the desk and rushes out of the room. The twins try and hold him but he brushes past them.

Tyler wait

We would never--

Jessica stands.

Tyler--

But he’s beyond the doors, slamming them behind him. We can hear muffled cheers in the other room.

A ‘pizza shop’ as if it were totally inside a hollywood set. Feels like 1991 style ninja turtles commercial almost.

A nuclear family of four, dressed in their Sunday best, burst into a local pizza shop. The owner cheerfully greets them.

Hey there Doug! What’s got you in a tizzy?

The family is led by DOUG JONES, in 1960’s style suit.

Terry, I’ve got a hungry family of four and don’t have time to cook dinner, we’ve got to get to the matinee! What can I do?

The Pizza shop owner plops his arm over the counter and points down to a sign.

How about Terry’s family meal deal? Two large pizzas with sodas and wings for only nineteen ninety nine!

Suddenly the whole family is standing in the shop. Back lit. It’s Doug and Jessica, embracing. And their ‘kids’ are the twins. 1960’s gear for everyone. It’s surreal.

Doug steps forward, holding a pizza cutter.

That sounds great Terry! Let’s slice it open.

Suddenly the four are at a table, Terry lays on the table, guts sliced open, as the four of them feast on him.

A live stream of two of the mascots on the strip in a fist fight. A couple loincloth men try to break it up.

A sexy clown on a stripper pole, doing a complex routine. She slides down the pole and ‘honks’ her red nose at a patron.

But nobody in the bar is watching them. They’re all glued to their phones, watching the death house live stream.

We’re watching the live stream. Tyler is pacing around the room and everyone is trying to enjoy their night and drinks. The chat is popping off as he paces.

WHATS INTO HIM POPPY NIP SLIP FEATHER GANG FEATHER GANG

I have a fucking death sentence now! FUCK!

Everyone is confused as to why he’s upset. Felicia day goes over to try and calm him but he shrugs off her hug.

We’re snapped back into Dougs office like it was a fever dream. Doug is seated again, relaxed. He folds his hand.

Now Jessica. Where were we?

Jessica backs away from the desk a little. Looks around. Spies a mannequins head with what looks like the necklace Doug was wearing on it.

Doug smiles at her, beckons her to sit.

Jessica. It’s alright. I don’t have anything against you. You’ve always been about one thing and I respect that kind of straightforward nature. Easy to predict at least. You want knowledge. Truth? Yes?

Jessica softens a little.

I.. Yes.

Then let me give it to you. Do you want to know what your last sentence will be? Hmm.

Jessica thinks. Sits for a long time. The twins come up behind her. Putting their hands on her. Doug takes out a fresh slip of Amatl paper from his desk.

I think I want to know.

Doug twirls his pen in his hands, rolls his eyes.

Are you sure?

I’m sure. Tell me.

Jessica looks at the twins, who begin to chant in unison. Ancient syllables, barely sensical. This time it’s much more intense. For real. Their eyes roll into the back of their heads and Jessica has FLASHES in her mind, which we hear and see.

HER PULSE. A CLOCK TICKS. THE CLAP AND WHINE OF A LIGHTBULB FLASHING. A WHOLE ROOM OF PEOPLE CLAPPING IN UNISON. THE ROIL OF THE OCEAN. THE CLAP OF THUNDER.

Jessica GASPS and sits straight up. The twins eyes are swirling like grey thunderclouds.

And a COMMOTION from the other room. One of the loincloth men BURSTS in, out of breath.

Sir! We need you in the other room.

Can it wait?

No, I don’t think so. I’m sorry.

Doug drops his pen and angrily walks out of the room.

Hold that thought ladies.

As Doug walks out the women look at each other and nod, swapping sides. They each caress Jessica and kiss her cheek, then whisper back into her ears.

SUDDENLY WE SEE THE VISION.

A Million different endings for Jessica. OLD. CAR CARSH. GUNSHOT. DROWNED. But more than just her death. Her PATHS. Marrying Miguel. Falling in love with Oro and Plata. Sitting alone watching reruns of her show. Attending funerals. Becoming a potter. A million different versions of her like a sink full of soap bubbles, each slowly merging and popping into the version that is sitting here. Now.

Jessica’s muscles fail her and she falls into the arms of the twins. Slowly coming back to life she coughs and then vomits all over the floor. Heaving.

The twins’ eyes are now back to their typical chocolate color. They feel strangely kind and loving towards Jessica now, as they help her by patting her back.

She hauls herself up to the desk, willing herself forward to grab the paper and pen. Sitting with it. Panting.

She stares at the page. Blank. Pristine.

What the fuck was that.

We gave it back.

All of it.

Jessica shakes her head. She’s got a splitting headache.

What should I write?

Anything

Nothing

What?

Your tomorrow

And tomorrow

And tomorrow

And tomorrow

Are unwritten.

Jessica hesitates. Then pockets the paper, blank. Puts the pen down.

She looks around, bewildered. Notices the mannequin again. She slides over to it, as the twins shut the door, guarding her.

She pulls the locked off the mannequin and opens the capsule. Inside is amatl paper. She unfurls it to find.

IT IS BLANK.

Tyler buzzes around the room, frantic. He approaches different groups.

He gave me a sentence. Oh god. He’s gonna kill me.

(whispering to him)

Yea, we all got sentences. That’s the whole point. That’s why people watch.

You don’t understand.

He throws houseguest one to the ground. The room falls silent but the CHAT blows up.

HES COOKED DEEP END TYLER DET DET DET

It’s REAL. It’s all REAL. But it’s not random. HE PICKS THEM.

Houseguest two and three pull him off houseguest one.

HE PICKS THE SENTENCE.

Tyler tries to wrestle himself free.

Tyler, calm down!

He told me the two sentences for the people that we killed at Mystery now! I tried them out because I didn’t believe. But it’s real!

Poppy is watching the stream numbers tick up and springs into action, trying to calm Tyler and steal the attention. She fires up her phone and starts streaming.

What’s wrong ty ty? Having cold feet.

Tyler looks at her like a snake. A loincloth man shouts at them.

Hey! One house one stream! Put it away.

(To loincloth man)

Fuck you. NPC.

And you! You’re a fake! You don’t really love me. You used me to get on this stupid show. You used me until I wasn’t useful anymore and then you leeched onto Doug.

COOK COOK COOK FEATHER GANG RISE FINALE ENERGY

Doug appears in the doorway of his office.

What’s with all this commotion.

Tyler starts running for the door but the loincloth men catch him and boomerang him back into the room.

Tyler! No need to be scared my friend. Everyone knows how close we are. I love you so much! I’m happy that we’ve succeeded in all our wildest dreams together.

He saunters over and puts his arm around Tyler. Whispering to him.

(whispering)

Behave or die. Your choice.

One of the loincloth men comes up to Doug.

Sir. Poppy is streaming inside the house.

Doug is appalled. He saunters over with Tyler to poppy.

Isn’t it time you two lovebirds tied the knot? Please! Step into my office. And step out, Mr. And Mrs. Palabras!

The whole room cheers and Doug waves. He marches the whole lot back into his office.

Jessica is flipping through the screenplays. We can see lines with names next to them. Some crossed off. She finds names for Tyler, Diane and Mike - which each have their existing death sentence. She looks up at Doug is goose-stepping Tyler and Poppy into the room.

So you just make them up. Huh Doug?

Doug’s face contorts and the mask is totally dropped. Poppy looks bored.

Seriously? That’s it?

Poppy wriggles free and snatches one of the screenplays off the pile before anyone can react.

Wait!

Tyler stomps on Doug’s toes and Doug YALPS! He grabs the twins and they escape into the main room.

Bye Doug!

Everyone in the room is staring at Poppy and the script in her hand and the streaming phone in the other. Felicia day walks up to her and gingerly puts a hand on her shoulder.

Poppy honey. Are you alright?

OH SHIT SHE SAID NO WHO OBJECTED DOUG JONES MATCHMAKER FEATHER SQUAD MOUNT UP

Poppy looks down and flips through the pages. Doug comes after her and tries to snatch the screenplay from her hands. She’s faster than him though and dodges to the center of the room.

NINJA MODE POPPPPPPPP MODE FEATHER SQUAD UP

The loincloth men are frozen in position.

Let’s see.

She flips a few pages. Spots a name in the pages, and reads it off.

Is Alan Tudyk here?

Houseguest one steps forward.

You don’t recognize me? I was in Firefly. Dodgeball?

Poppy rolls her eyes and reads off the text on the screenplay next to his name.

I’m in SAG.

Buy the large, it’s only fifty cents more.

Excuse--

A DRONE shatters through a window and ZIPS straight into HIS FACE, MANGLING it with the steel blades. He SCREAMS and GURGLES, falling to the floor twitching.

Total and deafening silence. The whole room just stares at his gristly corpse.

(brightly)

OH my god. That was BRUTAL!

The house ERUPTS in cheers, claps. And laughter. People clink glasses. Jessica, out of the office. Is HORRIFIED.

The CHAT is BLOWING UP and the stream JUMPS in numbers by several orders of magnitude.

WHO WAS THAT? DAMN THATS GROSS FIRST BLOOOOOOOOOD

Jessica is laser trained on watching Doug, whose hand looks significantly better and he cracks his neck, taking a breath. Jessica grows suspicious.

Okay young lady that’s enough for one blood moo-

She turns to him and SMASHES him in the face and throat. Everyone goes aghast as Doug falls to the floor.

OH yea. We previously established she knows Krav Maga!

Jesus--

Without blinking Poppy reads off more of the script.

You wanted the last word. Here it is.

A loincloth man clutches his chest and falls down.

You want fries with that?

Suddenly someone’s phone explodes in their face.

The room FREAKS OUT. Realizing that EVERYONE HERE WILL DIE.

Everything becomes TOTAL CHAOS as we see in stream POV as well as cinematic motion. Several people run for the exits and Poppy keeps reading names off and people die is ludicrous and gore splattering fashion. She walks out the side door and onto the pool patio.

THERE are STANDS full of loincloth men there that instinctively clap! A whole CAMERA CREW setup for some sort of FINALE ‘rose ceremony’ style live cast.

Looks like your luck just ran out of bullets.

A rouge electrical cord drops from an overhead light bank and ELECTROCUTES several Loincloth men.

Several loincloth men are gathered around the TV.

There’s only one way out of this town, and you’re taking it.

A TOUR BUS PLOWS into the group of men who SCREAM!

Several Loincloth men are doing a perfume activation with the livestream on.

Did you remember to validate the parking?

The Ferris wheel DE-RAILS and SQUASHES them all into a pancake. Except for one.

Wha--

A SHARK jumps out of the water and devours him in mid-air.

Pamela Anderson walks through her apartment in a night gown, on her phone.

Yes, I know. I’ll be there soon. Okay?

She hangs up and flips to the livestream.

I’d like to thank the academy.

The shelf of her awards suddenly gives way and spills the awards onto the floor. Pamela unexpectedly trips and is IMPALED through her skull by an ACADEMY AWARD.

Tyler is chasing down Poppy and TACKLES her into the pool. Scattering the screenplay pages everywhere. Loincloth men scramble for their pages.

Some of them run with the pages.

Some stare straight into one of the cameras and say the sentence with GLEE on their faces.

Meanwhile poppy and Tyler are wrestling each other in the water.

You fucking Bitch

Moron! What the hell are you doing?

You’re trying to kill me.

I don’t give a shit about you. You’re just another fucking tool.

I’m the one that everyone cares about. I’m the one they wanted.

Poppy punches him in the face, as well as anyone swimming can punch.

I got you here. I made you famous. YOU were supposed to need ME!

They try and drown each other.

Doug, visibly younger and more energetic, locks himself into his room. He grabs his stack of papers and opens a secret door to the garage.

Doug whistles a little tune to himself. Jumps into his convertible and opens the garage door.

Several men are ON FIRE there.

Help me! Oh god!

Doug revs the accelerator and smashes the gas.

You picked the wrong day to become somebody’s problem.

The car ROARS to life and DEMOLISHES the man on fire into a million bloody chunks.

Doug casually flips on the wipers and grumbles.

Ugh. Disgusting.

Jessica slams on the door to Doug’s Office.

Doug! Let me in! Stop this!

Poppy is screaming at Tyler.

I saw what you sentence was in Doug’s stupid script by the way. And I didn’t say it because I fucking pity you Tyler. But not any more. You fuck--

Tyler jumps on her and pushes her under, desperate. He’s drowning her.

Tyler looks on at the insanity around him. The cameras on him.

OH GO TYLER FUCKING DO IT KILL PPPPPPPP KILL KILL KILL

He looks up and cries out.

FUCCCCCK!

He lets her come up, she gasps for air.

Please! Please poppy dont!

Tyler is a fucking bitch.

Silence. They wait.

The twins step out onto the pool deck in gorgeous slow motion, amongst the carnage, swimsuits on. Ready to join them in the pool.

Jessica grabs a heavy object and smashes open the door.

Doug isn’t there.

Doug is speeding down the freeway, listening to “Dont fear the reaper” by Blue oyster cult.

He instinctively feels for his necklace around his neck.. But it’s not there.

Jessica reaches into her pocked and pulls out Doug’s necklace.

She opens it and sees the blank paper. Searches around the desk for a pen and finds it. She sits. Waiting.

Then the twins appear in the doorstep. Seductively marching towards Jessica.

Help me stop this.

Be still

Prepare

To act.

They touch her shoulders and all three of their eyes go murky. We see Jessica’s vision.

Doug. All of Doug. All the good he is. All the silly evil. Doug Old. Doug jumping off a bridge. Doug choking on a slice of pecan pie. Doug driving his car.

We ZOOM back out. A tear falls down Jessica’s eye, against her will.

She scribbles something down on the paper.

The twins pat her on the back.

The darkened wreckage of Miguels’ life. He sits watching the stream, hands bandaged, smoking a cigarette inside.

On the stream is somehow what’s going on in Doug’s office. Even though there’s no cameras in there.

Bradley is in the news chopper, circling around the death house with all the insanity going on. Random fireworks go off over the house.

Jesus Christ. What the fuck is going on out there.

Doug is fiddling with his phone on the dash, tuning into the death house feed.

Jessica writes on Doug’s Death sentence. We don’t see what it is. She grabs it and runs to the main room, it’s barren except for bodies everywhere. Then out to the pool, where several of the loincloth men are still streaming.

Hey. Point those things at me.

She gestures to the camera.

Doug, Consider yourself revenganced.

Doug sees this on the live stream.

Wha!?

The car SMASHES into a barricade and THROWS Doug jones from the vehicle and ONTO the freeway overpass sign for the Hollywood and Highland exit, SMASHING him like a MOSQUITO onto it.

His body STICKS to the sign for one gristly moment, then SLIIIDES down and falls onto the freeway as a pile of gore which is PROMPTLY run over by SEVERAL LAPD vehicles, all lights and sirens on, making their way over the hill and back towards the death house.

BARS AND TONE.

The twins are tittering and playing in the pool as poppy and Tyler keep screaming at each other.

Jessica is laying down on the concrete. Beat to shit.

POV interior of a cop car pulling up to the death house.

A nighttime chopper shot of the Hollywood sign, littered with cult bodies.

We’re somehow back on the interview set, it’s pristine. Totally perfect. As if it was just before the interview with Mike.

Mike sits in the seat in front of Jessica’s He leans forward.

You think it’s bullshit. Don’t you.

Well. I don’t know if I’d say that.

CUT!

We pull back to reveal... This is all a reproduction set! “Mike” and “Jessica” are being played by actors.

Lower third Chiron: “The Death Sentence: The Jessica Chen story”

We see the real Jessica, our Jessica is directing the whole thing. Making a movie about what’s happened over the last few days.

Our Jessica turns to Bradley, sitting next to her.

Thoughts?

Needs more tits.

In through the set door strolls Tyler.

Ham and cheese on rye.

Nothing happens.

Just walking onto set whenever you want. Have you learned nothing?

Tyler smirks.

I figured I’d make a grand entrance. Look who I found wandering the parking lot.

The door opens a little wider and it’s Miguel. He looks up at Jessica. Pained.

Silence. The ‘mike’ and ‘Jessica’ whisper to each other.

Oh shit is that?

It has to be.

Jess. I uh...

His hands are still bandaged.

Jessica stands up and walks over to him. Stands in front of him for a second.

I’m so sorry. I feel like there’s nothing--

Jessica hugs him.

I’m so glad you’re here Miguel. We’ve got a lot of work to do.

“I want you to want me” plays over ALL the FOLLOWING

We see the gang at the movie premiere for their movie. They walk the step and repeat.

We see a faceless editor cutting up the footage we just watched.

Someone is sitting in the back seat of an uber watching the editor cutting on tiktok.

We’ve flopped POV’s and now we’re in the UBER’s dash camera. DOUG JONES is driving the uber. Or is it Doug? It’s hard to tell. In the back seat is some hollywood producer.

Anything good?

Nah. Just some stupid fucking movie pitch.

Oh! Must be exciting.

Another fucking found footage horror movie. Nobody watches that shit anymore.

Doug’s eyes widen as he realizes he’s going to crash the car.

Oh Shi--

SMASH TO BLACK:

Car crash sounds. A long and whining Car horn blares.

TITLE CARD: THE DEATH SENTENCE