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DARK UNIVERSE written by Michael Gilio based on the treatment by Guillermo del Toro inspired by the DC comic JUSTICE LEAGUE DARK second draft 3/25/2015 WARNER BROS. DC Entertainment THE VOID. A cosmic nothingness, wind-howling in the dark. ... let's sit with that disquieting image for awhile ... just long enough for the existential dread to sink in, then: CONSTANTINE (V.O.) Vast as our Universe is ... (a British voice) It is ruled by only two forces: SMASH CUT TO: AN ARCTIC SUN, dazzling white on a snowy horizon. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) The LIGHT. Giver of life. JUMP TO: PITCH-BLACKNESS, from deep inside an ice cave. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) And the DARK. The force of decay and destruction. TITLE: SOMEWHERE IN EAST ANTARCTICA A solitary SILHOUETTE appears at the mouth of a giant cave, a bright flare emanating from its hip; bundled up, wearing a scarf and infrared goggles; the Figure looks like an alien. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Light and Dark. Life and Death. The Figure warily approaches an impossibly-high WALL OF ICE. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) These forces are always at war. Always. JUMP TO: A PICK-AX, chipping away at the ice, over and over, getting faster and faster with the rush of discovery-- CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) But between these opposing forces ... there's a dividing line ... The pick-ax STOPS; through the cracked web of ice ... CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) A blurring. An overlap. (CONTINUED) 2. TWO BOOKS. Weathered, ancient, ominous. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) This is the realm of magic. JUMP TO: THE BOOKS, hitting the ground with a THUD. A gloved hand wipes away the snow, revealing a title inscribed in cuneiform. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) But when you play with magic-- when you trick the Universe into giving you something you haven't earned-- From somewhere deep in the core of the world, there's a RUMBLING; the Figure quickly shoves the Books into a satchel-- CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) You pay for it. JUMP TO: THE ARCTIC SUN, suddenly blocked by the moon, a violent, total SOLAR ECLIPSE; black storm clouds race across the sky. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) You always pay for it. SMASH CUT TO: EXT. FREEWAY - DAY TITLE: I-75 NORTH FREEWAY, ATLANTA, GA. A biblical THUNDERSTORM batters down on an elevated freeway. Morning TRAFFIC flows smoothly on the overpass. Below, on another freeway, the traffic flow is stalled. WE FOLLOW A POLICE CRUISER Through the storm, en route to an ACCIDENT, slowly pushing its way through the underpass traffic. It passes a REPORTER, struggling with an umbrella, standing before a TV van: TV REPORTER --this odd, violent weather, unlike anything we've ever seen before, in addition to an accident jamming up-- Whup- a blast of a siren, and the police cruiser comes up on-- (CONTINUED) 3. A HUNCHED MAN. Wearing a cloak, its hood large and heavy, the Man's face hidden in shadow. He strolls between the stalled cars, a WOODEN STAFF clicking at his side, a satchel thrown over his shoulder. He dips into the satchel, scattering pebbles (or something) across the freeway pavement. POLICE OFFICER Hell's he doin, is he-- HIS PARTNER Throwing stuff on the ground. They pull over. The Driver leans out the window: on the pavement ... RED SEEDS. The Officer reaches for the console: POLICE OFFICER (O.S.) (from a loudspeaker) Hey, Johnny Appleseed. Whattayou think you're doing, huh? From under the shade of the Man's hood: THE MAN Beneath the concrete ... And from out of the red seeds: THE MAN (CONT'D) THE FOREST. GIGANTIC BLACK TENDRILS EMERGE Spiraling UPWARDS, the Earth RUMBLING, the freeway TREMBLING, the angry vines as thick as the freeway's pylons-- THEY SMASH THROUGH the pavement above, the concrete breaking into large chunks, sending cars and SUVs into orbit-- Traffic veers, screeches, crashes. CHAOS. A massive oil tanker loses control, veering away from a giant PINEWOOD TREE that has inexplicably burst through the road-- SLAMS into a half-dozen cars, plowing them over the guardrail-- THE CARS PLUMMET to the freeway below-- EXPLOSIONS. DISEASED ROOTS AND BRANCHES SURGE outward from the skyscraper- sized plants, blotting out the sky, a sudden, dark canopy. The Man in the Cloak. He stands frozen in the fiery chaos. Stares at his hand. (CONTINUED) 4. It's desiccated and twisted like a bundle of dry kindling. From his satchel, he pulls out a HYPODERMIC NEEDLE, filled with a bright florescent GREEN formula-- JABS it in his arm, depresses the plunger ... his eyes roll back into his head. ... the bundle starts to regenerate, stems and vines and branches intertwining into sinew tissue and tendons. Somewhere behind him-- THE OIL TANKER EXPLODES. He doesn't flinch. POLICE OFFICER (O.S.) On your knees, NOW, hands up. The COPS warily approach; they have the Man surrounded, their weapons trained on him, the rain coming down in black sheets. THE GROUND EXPLODES around the patrolmen's feet-- ROT-BLACK TENDRILS snake and wrap around their bodies, squeezing them, their faces becoming red-- then purple, then-- THEY'RE CASUALLY TOSSED, their rag-doll bodies tumbling into the horizon, their screams dissolving at the vanishing point. It is all quiet. An ancient BLACK FOREST has emerged in the middle of the freeway, knotty, and expressionistic, like an Arthur Rackham storybook illustration. It's oddly and darkly beautiful. REPORTER Oh, God, my God, what is happening? The Man steps up to the TV Reporter. Pulls off his cloak: He wears a snow-boarding mask, an image of a grinning skull. Looks in the camera ... and with an electronically-scrambled voice, he speaks directly to us: THE MAN Civilization is a cancer. (his eyes glow RED) I am its cure. INT. A SHITTY MOTEL ROOM Watching the broadcast on a dim TV set: THE MAN Surrender to the past. (CONTINUED) 5. REPORTER --the authorities seek to question, regarding this bizarre incident-- WE SLOWLY PULL BACK FROM THE TV ... A makeshift detective's office; stacks of ancient-looking books; a gun holster thrown over a chair; surveillance photos tacked on the wall, including a telephoto image of the skull- faced eco-terrorist; and we move directly over the shoulder of SOMEONE watching the attack, the newscast freezing on-- REPORTER (CONT'D) --this unidentified man ... The frozen image of-- CONSTANTINE (O.S.) Woodrue. REVERSE ON: JOHN CONSTANTINE. 30's, bleached-blonde hair, shirtless. He leans into a Zippo flame, lights a Silk Cut cigarette, and SNAPS the Zippo shut: CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) And so it begi-- He ERUPTS into a violent coughing fit. TITLE: NEW YORK CITY CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) War is coming. INT. MOTEL BATHROOM - CONTINUOUS Doubled over a sink, gripping its edges, Constantine COUGHS. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) And just like any war, this one needs agents, mediators. Mercenaries. He peers into the porcelain basin ... tiny droplets of BLOOD. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) I am one of these mercenaries. Stares at himself in the mirror; unshaven, world-weary. His body riddled with scars. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Not good. Not bad. (CONTINUED) 6. Tacked on the mirror, is a blurry SNAPSHOT: GIOVANNI ZATARA, 50's, hairline mustache, tux, tails, a magician, backstage after a performance with his daughter, ZATANNA; 20's, raven-haired, bright-eyed, and JOHN CONSTANTINE; younger, smiling. Happier days. CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) But what we are? He stares at the photo, at Zatanna ... CONSTANTINE (V.O.) (CONT'D) Is absolutely necessary. DARK UNIVERSE SMASH CUT TO: A WRISTWATCH, poking out from under a hiked sleeve: 12:33. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) (CONT'D) Bollocks. EXT. CENTRAL PARK - MORNING Tourists, street performers, a rinky-dink carnival. Above it all, though ... A SOLAR ECLIPSE, casting an eerie half-light; the crowd stares up at it, anxious, wearing sunglasses, shielding their eyes. RADIO ANNOUNCER (V.O.) --solar eclipse, occurring outside of a normal eclipse season, has scientists baffled, and people worried over yet another strange-- WE FIND CONSTANTINE-- trench coat flapping in the wind, loose tie; he pushes his way through the crowd, his eyes fixed on: CARL CARNAHAN. 40's, bookish, bespectacled. He pauses at a bargain bin outside a used bookstore; "THIRD EYE BOOKS". Selects a volume, flips through it, puts it back. Moves on-- CONSTANTINE FOLLOWS HIM ... past a bald, fat slob, BOBBY, 40's, and his angry wife, SELENA, also 40's. (CONTINUED) 7. They struggle to tie a mounted SWORDFISH to their station wagon: BOBBY Where the hell are we gonna put this damn thing? SELENA It's my money, I can do whatever I-- PIGEONS SCATTER into the sky-- --just as Constantine moves past a beat-up TRUCK, a large SHEET OF MIRRORED GLASS secured in its flatbed. He follows Carnahan downhill, heading for a diner: JET JERRY'S TIME MACHINE. He enters the place; John ducks in after him. CONSTANTINE (prelap) A dabbler in the dark arts, aye? INT. JET JERRY'S DINER - LATER Constantine leans into a Zippo flame, lights a cigarette: CONSTANTINE Amateur mahatma? Weekend wizard? Tell me-- SNAPS the Zippo shut, exhales, speaks directly to us. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) What is it you desire from the Books of Magic? Immortality? God-like powers? A bigger johnson, perhaps? (leans in, conspiratorial) Look here, mate. I don't know how you acquired the world's most forbidden Books of spells and invocations, and frankly, I don't care. But the mere discovery of these Books, and your sneaky lil dealings, have triggered a cosmic rupture of catastrophic propositions, which is a very, very bad thing. REVERSE ON: Carnahan, blinking confusedly. He sits hunched at a counter, a cup of coffee trembling before him. CARNAHAN Who are you, exactly? John offers a hand-- (CONTINUED) 8. CONSTANTINE Constantine. John Constantine. Occult detective. Rogue mage. Iconoclast. --his hand hangs there, lamely. CARNAHAN So. You want me-- CONSTANTINE Yessir. CARNAHAN To give to you-- CONSTANTINE The Books of Magic, yes, please. CARNAHAN Which would then allow you to-- CONSTANTINE Return the Books to where they rightfully belong, save the world, and everyone in it. CARNAHAN But not me. CONSTANTINE No. Not you. You're going to die-- (checks his wristwatch) --in 3 minutes now, so. Snap, snap. Carnahan bites his lower lip. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) I don't mean to come off as insensitive, mate, I understand this is a lot to process in a short amount of time, but, seriously. Carl. Bloke. The state of the cosmic order is presently in your hands, so, please, stop blinking vacantly at me, and man up. Capeche? WAITRESS (O.S.) Sir, you cannot smoke in here. A WAITRESS totters on roller skates with a too-tight uniform. She sets down a burger in front of Carl-- CONSTANTINE Pardon me. (CONTINUED) 9. Constantine reaches across Carl, peeks under the bun-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Oh, no. No, I'm sorry, luv. Hands the plate back. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) No pickles, please. CARNAHAN I like pickles. CONSTANTINE (a patient smile) It doesn't matter what you like, Carl. You're not going to eat it. CARNAHAN (to the Waitress) I want my burger, to go, please, with pickles. And quickly. CONSTANTINE Yes, quickly. (eyes his wristwatch) You have 2 minutes now. WAITRESS Sir. You cannot-- CONSTANTINE Putting it out, putting it out. Crushes the cigarette on a tea cup saucer, and she's gone, rolling down the aisle. He lights another cigarette. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Carl. We don't have much time-- CARNAHAN How do you know my name? CONSTANTINE Carl Carnahan. Antique book dealer. Tax cheat. Closeted Satanist. A WINK. Carnahan is getting uncomfortable. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) I know all about you, Carl. You've been a very naughty lad, playing with powerful things that are beyond your comprehension. (CONTINUED) 10. CARNAHAN What do you want? CONSTANTINE The key. The one to your safe with the Books in it. Behind the oak bookshelf, in the east wing of your penthouse suite. Where is it? Carl BOLTS to his feet-- CARNAHAN I don't like this conversation. And he moves quickly for the exit. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) Do you have the key on you? Constantine is right there, keeping pace. CARNAHAN No, I-- (flustered) There is no key. CONSTANTINE Whattayou mean, there is no key? Hullo-- Snatches the "to go" bag from the Waitress at the register, and Carnahan SNATCHES it back, throwing her a wad of bills-- EXT. CENTRAL PARK - CONTINUOUS ... and now they're moving quickly through the park again. CARNAHAN Whoever you are, please, I beg you, please, don't hurt me-- CONSTANTINE Christ. Who do you think I am? TWO KIDS zip between them on skateboards. Carnahan STOPS. CARNAHAN Let's say I were to open the safe for you. Would you spare me my life? CONSTANTINE There's no bargaining here, mate. If it were up to me, I'd buy you a pint and we'd have a laugh-- (CONTINUED) 11. Carl takes off again, near-jogging. John tries to keep up-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) You played with magic, Carl, real magic. And when you make games of real black magic, you pay for it. You always pay for it. They move past BOBBY and SELENA, finishing the tying of the huge fish to the roof of their station wagon-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) You are going to die. Carnahan STOPS again-- he looks as if he may cry. CARNAHAN How do you know? CONSTANTINE (quick) Are you familiar with the cosmic avatar of Destiny, member of the Endless, and presider of the Garden of the Forking Ways? CARNAHAN ... huh? CONSTANTINE It is written. In his Book. Just trust me on this. There's no use running away from it. You can do the world a lot of good by just-- handing over the key. A palm out. The TWO MOVERS struggle with the large sheet of mirrored glass, inching past them. Carnahan thinks, then: CARNAHAN The Books are in my safe. I don't want anything to do with them anymore, I-- odd things are happening all around me. I got scared. I sold them. They no longer belong to me. CONSTANTINE Sold em. To whom? CARNAHAN He was going to pick them up. Tonight. CONSTANTINE Who? Who is going to pick them up? (CONTINUED) 12. The station wagon engine ROARS, Bobby and Selena in the front seat now, the car beginning to move downhill-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) We can't allow the Books to fall into the wrong hands, who is it? CARNAHAN If I tell you-- CONSTANTINE No time, just-- gimmee the key. CARNAHAN I am the key. It's a fingerprint reader, see? (raises his right hand) My right hand is the key. Constantine blinks. CONSTANTINE You must be joking. Checks his wristwatch again. Lets out a heavy sigh. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Bollocks. And then it all happens at once: PIGEONS shoot up from the pavement-- The GLASS-MOVERS tilt the mirrored sheet to avoid the birds-- The glass sharply reflects the sun, directly into-- Bobby's eyes. SELENA SCREAMS, just as the station wagon nearly hits the TWO SKATEBOARDERS. Bobby hits the breaks, HARD ... And the SWORDFISH is catapulted through the air, a perfect, deadly arch, its spear cutting through the air towards-- CARNAHAN Oh, God. THUNK-- and Carl is impaled there in the street, STUCK, like a martini olive, the "to go" bag hitting the ground and rolling to a STOP at Constantine's feet. John picks it up, reaches inside, and takes a bite out of the burger-- Spits. (CONTINUED) 13. CONSTANTINE Pickles. SMASH CUT TO: A GURNEY, carrying Carnahan's sheet-covered body. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) (CONT'D) I was his closest friend, poor, dear Carl. I'll miss him so. He's lifted into the back of a MORGUE WAGON by TWO CORONERS. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Would you fellows mind if I rode along with him? Keep him company? INT. MORGUE WAGON - DAY The back doors are SLAMMED shut. And the wagon pulls away from the scene of the "accident". Constantine sits beside poor, dear Carl Carnahan, alone, the sheet tented from where the "sword" still remains. He rifles through the dead man's pockets-- CONSTANTINE Where are you, lil bugger? CARL'S WALLET. Pulls out a few bills (pockets them), then finds an embossed BUSINESS CARD printed on linen paper: "Jason Blood - Antiquity Scholar" CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Bloody Jason Blood. Now why would you want the Books of Magic, aye? Finds Carnahan's right arm, hikes up his sleeve, ponders the dead man's WRIST. Knocks on the wrist bone: hard stuff. Searches the vehicle, finds: a STRAIGHT RAZOR, in a drawer. Holds it up to the wrist ... attempts to sever it-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Oi. Give us a break-- Too stiff. Tosses the razor-- STOPS. Sniffs at the air. A black, fat FLY buzzes around his head, as if deliberately irritating him-- lands on his hand. (CONTINUED) 14. KLARION (O.S.) Got a hot tip for you, Johnny. In the corner of the ceiling, like a spider in its web, is a smiling, ten-year old, blue-faced boy with a pageboy haircut: KLARION THE WITCH BOY. A halo of flies encircle him. CONSTANTINE Blimey, Klarion, don't sneak up on me like that. You find anything juicy on this Woodrue wanker? The boy scurries across the morgue wagon walls, insect-like. KLARION He's a doctor. A botanist. Working for an industrial combine, toiling away on a secret, personal project. CONSTANTINE What kind a secret project? KLARION A doomsday project. To destroy civilization as we know it. He's calling it ... (dramatic pause) "Project Innanna." CONSTANTINE "Innanna". The devil does that mean? KLARION You're the detective. CONSTANTINE And how does Dr. Woodrue intend to execute said doomsday project? KLARION The Books of Magic. CONSTANTINE Of course. KLARION He doesn't know where it is, though. Like you, he's searching for them. CONSTANTINE No one knew where they were, till some tosser unearthed em. Now anyone who's ever played with a Quija Board at a sleepover wants a piece of it. (CONTINUED) 15. Beat. Constantine bites his lip, wanting to ask something-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) You, uh. Got anything else, mate? Klarion smiles. KLARION Johnny. You're living on borrowed time, why torture yourself? CONSTANTINE You have anything on her, or no? Klarion steps down to the floor; he's a small fellow, neatly- dressed, the halo of flies buzzing around his head. KLARION Maybe I do. Sticks a tiny blue palm out. KLARION (CONT'D) Maybe I don't. CONSTANTINE Oh, no. No. I've given you enough. KLARION Would you like me to tell "Zee" that you're having her followed? He doesn't. Sighs. Reaches into his trench coat, pulling out a LEATHER POUCH. Rummages around in there (it's seemingly bottomless) and pulls out a bright, florescent-pink PHIAL. Hands it over-- Klarion's eye widen --then yanks it back. CONSTANTINE What are you doing with all this astral energy I keep giving you? KLARION Nuthin. Bartering it. CONSTANTINE You're not ingesting it, are you? Klarion shyly shakes his head. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) You better not. You can't handle it, kid, it'll make you power mad, a megalomaniac. Take it from me. John reluctantly hands him the phial. Klarion pockets it. (CONTINUED) 16. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Give it to me straight, kid KLARION I must say, Johnny ... I don't know what Zatanna ever saw in you ... The halo of flies swarm into the center of the morgue wagon, the black cloud taking shape into ... a woman's face, ZATANNA. KLARION (CONT'D) She's beautiful, kind, and nurturing. She's all these things, the buzzing portrait smiles at John. KLARION (CONT'D) These days, I'm afraid she's looking for someone more sensitive, and sophisticated, and thoughtful. CONSTANTINE What, like you? KLARION (quiet) ... why not? I'm in love with her. John BARKS a laugh. CONSTANTINE You're just a lil blue boy, Klarion. The face of Zatanna turns angry, DEMONIC: KLARION There are LOTS OF THINGS one can offer a woman other than your SARCASM and ASH TRAY BREATH-- CONSTANTINE Whoa, re-lax, kid. You better ease off the astral-- KLARION (blunt) Zatanna has a boyfriend. John blinks. KLARION (CONT'D) Does that upset you, John? Does that make you insecure? Why do you even care? You didn't treat her well when you had her. (CONTINUED) 17. CONSTANTINE Who is he, then? Some brooding magician? Square-jawed super hero? KLARION An accountant. John blinks again. KLARION (CONT'D) He intends to propose to her. CONSTANTINE Well. That's-- good for her. I'm happy for her, she deserves that. Stay with her. And keep an eye on this-- "accountant". Woodrue too. I want to know more about this "Project Banana." KLARION Innanna. And Johnny? CONSTANTINE Yes, Klarion. Klarion SNATCHES John's leather pouch-- CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Son-of-a-witch. LUNGES for the blue boy-- But Klarion DISSOLVES into a cloud of flies, John PITCHING FORWARD, into the doors of the wagon-- THEY SWING OPEN: And JOHN FALLS OUT, tumbling headfirst into-- THE WINDSHIELD of a tailing car-- SMASHES IT, BOUNCES over the vehicle's roof, head over heels, and HITS the pavement, hard, SKIDDING like a stone and coming to a sudden HALT. He sits bolt-upright in the center of the road, cars whizzing past him in both directions. Blinks. Dazed. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) John, old son? (lights a cigarette) You need a drink. SMASH CUT TO: 18. EXT. DOWNTOWN ATLANTA, GA - DAY An aerial view of Atlanta's business district. The sky is an uproar of black, twisted clouds-- strange and unearthly. WOODRUE (V.O.) "Journal entry. Monday morning." JUMP TO: WOODRUE, 30's, stone-faced, bespectacled, sitting stock-still in a Prius, alone, dead-stuck in bumper-to-bumper traffic. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "I woke with a splitting migraine again today. My heart racing. Dizzy." The car hasn't moved an inch. Woodrue hasn't blinked. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "I don't know if it's the formula that's making me ill, or the agony of yet another day of 'living' in this air-conditioned nightmare." He slowly turns his head, sees: a BEST BUY display window; a BP Oil ad silently playing on a wall of gigantic HDTV screens. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "'Modern society', they call it. 'Civilization.' What is so civilized about stealing our dreams ..." ON TV, fields of grain, a waterfall, a soaring eagle. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "And selling it back to us as entertainment ..." He slowly turns his head elsewhere, sees: a BUSINESS MAN, hunched over a cup of coffee, alone, in a DUNKIN DONUTS. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "What is so 'civilized' about stealing our land ..." The Man nibbles on a bagel, staring in the mid-distance. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "And selling us back its bounty." HOOOOOOOONKK 19. EXT. SUNDERLAND CORPORATION - DAY An iron-and-glass compound, reaching for the stormy sky. Lab- coated SCIENTISTS march in lock-step to the front entrance. WOODRUE (V.O.) "Punch-in. Punch-out." WE FIND WOODRUE, a face in the crowd. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "Work. Consume. Die." INT. SUNDERLAND LAB - LATER Rows and rows of lab-coated SCIENTISTS are hunched over microscopes, working in private cubicles. WOODRUE (V.O.) "How I long for the silence. The calm, the tranquility before the tick-tick-ticking of punch-clocks; before time itself." WE FIND WOODRUE again, hunched over his own microscope. His desk is stacked with botany textbooks, documents, and folders, labelled: "Bio-Restorative Formula", "Photosynthesis Structures", and on top of it all: "PROJECT INNANNA". WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "Little by little, though ..." He looks up from the scope, checks to see if anyone is looking-- No one is. He slowly hikes up his sleeve, revealing: WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "I'm transitioning." His forearm; black, hard, tinted green-- TREE BARK. From a drawer, he pulls out a HYPODERMIC NEEDLE filled with a bright, florescent GREEN formula. He jabs it into the bark, plunging the syringe into his forearm (eyes roll into his head). A tiny black FLOWER BUD suddenly twists up from his forearm-- WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "I can communicate with the plants, but, ... I am weak. My intelligence is still too human ..." He PLUCKS the bud, delicately placing it beneath the scope's eye. UNDER THE SCOPE: a network of living, pulsing veins-- IT TURNS ROT-BLACK, a sudden network of diseased veins. (CONTINUED) 20. He pulls away from the scope, lost in thought. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "I need an intermediary. A gateway to the web that connects all living things; the network of eyes and ears that sees and hears everything. Knows everything. The planet's lifeblood-- the engine that powers the Universe. It'll lead me to my Fate ... to my Destiny." Gazes at ... a newspaper clipping, The Courier, tacked to the cubicle wall: "BEAUTY AND THE BEAST?" And beneath the headline: a black-n-white PHOTO of a beautiful woman with white hair, ABBY ARCANE, embracing a "monster of the swamp". WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "Wherever you are, Alec Holland, whatever you have lost ..." His eyes dimly glow red. WOODRUE (V.O.) (CONT'D) "You have something that I want." INT. OBLIVION BAR - NIGHT We move through the inter-dimensional pub, passing a Who's Who of DC characters; there's DETECTIVE CHIMP, drunk, sipping at a banana daiquiri; DR. OCCULT, engaged in an animated conversation with NIGHT NURSE, and John Constantine, sitting at a bar counter, hunched over a scotch. He throws it back-- Slams it down. CONSTANTINE I need to put together a crew, Eddie. EDDIE DEACON, 20's, the owner of the place, wipes down the countertop with his flipper-arms. EDDIE Oh, yeah? What kinda crew? CONSTANTINE A save the world kinda crew. EDDIE Well, shit. Throw a stone. Gestures to all the costumed-heroes lounging around. (CONTINUED) 21. EDDIE (CONT'D) In fact, look who's here tonight: In a corner booth, a man wearing a GOLD HELMET is surrounded by slinky super models, hanger-ons, and three other costumed "heroes": PANDORA, THE PHANTOM STRANGER, and BLACK ORCHID. CONSTANTINE (snorts) Dr. Fate? Oi. The Shadowpact? Give us a break. EDDIE Dr. Fate's awesome, dude. CONSTANTINE So he found a magical helmet, so what? EDDIE I can talk to him directly, if you want, bypass his agent. CONSTANTINE No. I don't need the Costumes. What I need, is a tough crew, that ... (leans in, whispers) Knows how to work on the dark side, if you know what I'm mean, mate? Eddie stares at him. EDDIE I dunno, John. Last time I-- CONSTANTINE Forget the last time, okay? This is important business. Hush-hush. End of the world stuff. You with me? Eddie considers him ... then, with a sigh: EDDIE Whattayou need? John scribbles on a cocktail napkin, slides it over. EDDIE (CONT'D) (looks it over) This is some sorry list, man. (laughs) Alec Holland? That dude is not gonna talk to you. Didn't you-- (CONTINUED) 22. CONSTANTINE Sleep with his girlfriend, yes, that was a long time ago. EDDIE (reads) Boston Brand? You really think that guy's gonna be happy to see you? Jason Blood? Jesus. Every single name on this list is seriously cursed, dude. Why would you-- CONSTANTINE Do you know where they are, or no? EDDIE I do, sure, but. You're not gonna convince them. They hate you, man. John fishes for a cigarette. CONSTANTINE I've got me ways. EDDIE How? CONSTANTINE By utilizing my best asset, mate. EDDIE (a smirk) And what's that, Johnny? Johnny leans into a Zippo, lights a Silk Cut-- CONSTANTINE My charm. EXT. "ABBY'S BAYOU SHACK" - NIGHT TITLE: LACROIX, LOUISIANA A watering hole for rednecks and parolees. In the foreground ... a WOODEN STAFF stakes its territory into the dirt road, a FIGURE stepping into view. REVERSE ON: WOODRUE, wearing a cloak. From the under the shade of the hood; a yellow rictus grin. 23. INT. "ABBY'S BAYOU SHACK" - CONTINUOUS The bar is oddly silent, everyone hovered around a POOL TABLE, watching a couple of drunk Cajun SUMBITCHES play pool with: ABBY ARCANE, 20's, striking. Bleached-white hair with a single stripe of black. She's the owner of this juke-joint. From a booth, Woodrue watches her from beneath his hood, red eyes aglow-- tiny, gray mushrooms grow from his upper lip. COCKTAIL WAITRESS (O.S.) What can I get you, darlin? The COCKTAIL WAITRESS, 60's, leans on the table. WOODRUE Wa-ter. COCKTAIL WAITRESS Got yourself some pretty eyes. He doesn't look up, fixated on Abigail: she's a master of the pool table, calling impossible shots and landing them. SUMBITCH #1 Bullshit. I call bullshit. This bitch is hustling us. CRACK-- 8-ball, corner pocket --CHEERS. Money is exchanged hand over fist and Abby spins round, facing the Sumbitches. ABBY Pay up, boys. SUMBITCH #2 Now wait just a goddamn minute. (shit-eating grin) I know you. Woodrue slowly leans forward with a creak, eyes blazing-- SUMBITCH #2 (CONT'D) You're that woman-- SUMBITCH #1 From the papers, yeah. SUMBITCH #2 You some kinda sex freak, ain't ya? SUMBITCH #1 I hear people doin it with farm animals, even their dog, but, you-- (CONTINUED) 24. CRACK-- the butt of Abby's pool cue BASHES into the Sumbitch's nose-- it's BROKEN, a gush of blood down his shirt; she swings the other end of the cue across the other Sumbitch's head-- CRACK --and he goes down. Everyone stares. A palm out. ABBY Pay up. They pay up, dropping crumpled bills into her palm, and she ambles to the bar, pours herself a shot from behind the bar-- COCKTAIL WAITRESS You got the devil in you, Abby Arcane. Why you always gotta go get into some kinda trouble, huh? ABBY Trouble finds me. Abby throws the shot back-- PHONE RINGS, she snatches it: ABBY (CONT'D) Bayou Shack. INTERCUT WITH: EXT. CITY STREET - CONTINUOUS Constantine stands at a vandalized phone bank, a phone pressed to his ear. A stray chihuahua BARKS at him. He kicks at it. CONSTANTINE Go away, shoo. Shoo. ABBY Who is this? CONSTANTINE Abby. Don't hang up, luv. ABBY Oh, no. CONSTANTINE Don't hang up. Shoo, shoo. ABBY Where are you? CONSTANTINE At a phone booth. (CONTINUED) 25. ABBY A phone booth? What is this, 1971? Get a cell phone. CONSTANTINE Don't trust em. Give you cancer. ABBY The hell do you want, John? CONSTANTINE You seen the news? You near a telly? She looks up at the TV above the counter. It's off. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Turn on the news, luv. She grabs a remote, flips through the channels, lands on: GIANT TENDRILS wrapping itself around the "golden arches". ABBY The hell--? Turn that down, willya? The music goes down, the TV goes up: TV REPORTER --five hours ago, this was the scene at a popular McDonalds in Shreveport-- COCKTAIL WAITRESS That's not far from here. CONSTANTINE You seeing it, then? IMAGES: rot-black battering rams SMASH THROUGH the restaurant-- TV REPORTER (V.O.) --the authorities seek to question this unidentified man, regarding yet another bizarre incident-- ON TV: A cloaked man looks in the camera, his red eyes glowing-- WOODRUE Surrender to the past. CONSTANTINE His name is Woodrue. Abby just stares, blank-faced. ABBY I know who he is. What does he want? (CONTINUED) 26. CONSTANTINE Abby. I'm putting together a crew. ABBY No. No, Alec and I, we ... he doesn't want anything to do with the world-- with you. We want to be left alone. CONSTANTINE I'm afraid he's not going to be able to ignore the world any longer. This Woodrue character? He's using Alec's formula to destroy cities. ZATANNA ... his Bio-Restorative Formula? CONSTANTINE Look. I don't expect you to trust me after what happened between us-- ABBY That was a mistake. CONSTANTINE But I'm coming to you, luv, with my hands up, begging you, to talk to him. I need the Big Guy. The world needs him. Talk to him. Will you? She watches the images ON TV: people screaming, dying, CHAOS. She sighs; doesn't want to do this, knows she must do this: ABBY I'll see what I can do. Hangs up. And BOLTS from her stool, striding across the floor-- ABBY (CONT'D) Close up for me, willya? COCKTAIL WAITRESS But I closed up for you last-- The front door SLAMS. COCKTAIL WAITRESS (CONT'D) --night. (shakes her head) Got the devil in you, Abby. Sighs. Stares at the TV. REALIZES. Slow-burns to the hooded man with red eyes in the booth-- but Woodrue is fixed on: A SWITCHBLADE (CONTINUED) 27. Clicking open, the two Sumbitches conspiring, then lumbering their way across the bar floor, close after Abby-- Woodrue reaches into his satchel. Pulls out a single RED SEED. Sets it on the table before him, and dips his fingers into the glass of water, drizzling the seed-- GIANT ROT-BLACK TENDRILS EMERGE Moving fast, rushing with purpose towards the exit-- EXT. "ABBY'S BAYOU SHACK" - CONTINUOUS Abby hops into her 4X4 pick-up just as the two Sumbitches are about to reach her-- THE TENDRILS WRAPS AROUND THEM, tight, a gigantic VENUS FLYTRAP opening its jaws wide, and-- SUMBITCH #1 What the-- CHOMP-- yanking them back THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR, smashing it into bits, the tavern nearly decimated all at once-- The Jeep spins out of the parking lot, kicking up dirt. INT. ABBY'S TRUCK - MOVING - CONTINUOUS Abby drives with purpose. In the REAR VIEW MIRROR, unseen by her, the TENDRILS silently destroy her "Bayou Shack"; pick- ups and Harleys and bikers are thrown into the night sky-- She continues on, taking us to ... EXT. BAYOU SWAMP - NIGHT Abby hops out of her 4X4 and moves alongside a MOON POOL. ABBY Alec? Alec? The lagoon is lush, verdant, alive; mushrooms as big as footstools, dragonflies bigger than birds. Abby in Wonderland. She STOPS. Crickets chirp. Fireflies lazily circle her ... ABBY (CONT'D) Alec? I need you. She sits on a mossy, felled tree. In a knot, beside her, an ORANGE EYE appears ... blinks, stares at her, then shuts. ABBY (CONT'D) It's important. We have to talk. (CONTINUED) 28. The wind moves through the trees ... ABBY (CONT'D) I know you're there. The branches and leaves move in coordination, like a wave. ABBY (CONT'D) I can feel you, Alec. A deep voice, rising on a breeze. SWAMP THING (V.O.) I am not Alec. She sighs. ABBY Alec. You're needed. I heard from-- (delicately) John Constantine, he said-- SWAMP THING (V.O.) JOHN CONSTANTINE? A strong gust of wind, the trees rustle wildly. SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) Never again, I told you, NEVER. You were never to speak to him-- ABBY Woodrue. That stops him. SWAMP THING (V.O.) Wood-rue. Did I know him once? Wood- rue? I forget. I forget so much. ABBY He stole your formula, Alec. Remember? He's now using it for his own purposes, he's become something ... not human. Overtook one of the largest highways in the country, destroyed it, using your formula, Alec, in a matter of seconds. (a silence) Are you there? It's quiet. Too quiet. ABBY (CONT'D) You feel so distant, I ... (CONTINUED) 29. She begins to undress. ABBY (CONT'D) I want to get close to you. Naked, she lowers herself into the reflection of the moon. A single, thin vine wraps itself around Abby's finger, a tiny WHITE FLOWER opening itself up to her nose. She sniffs it, plucks it, and sticks it behind her ear. SWAMP THING (V.O.) Why should I help the humans? ABBY Because you were human once. SWAMP THING (V.O.) Once. In the pond's reflection, a wavy apparition appears: ALEC HOLLAND, 30's, a scientist. A man. SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) Feels like a character I read about in a book, as a child ... The scientist sits hunched over a workbench, a bright, florescent GREEN FORMULA boiling over a bunsen burner-- SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) A scientist. Who was going to change the world. But this naive man-- HE HEARS something TICKING from under the desk: DYNAMITE. SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) He was sabotaged, his formula stolen-- AN EXPLOSION, and a fireball, Alec, runs wildly for the swamp. He DIVES into the bog, the image dissolving into a murkiness-- SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) I remember Woodrue. He betrayed me. ABBY Oh, Alec. SWAMP THING (V.O.) There's nothing left of Alec Holland in me anymore. I am not human. ABBY You are human. You're the most loving, most gentle, most human man that I've ever met. (CONTINUED) 30. SWAMP THING (V.O.) I'm a monster. And with a gust of wind, the trees bend, achingly, its leaves trembling, shivering, as if the swamp were ... crying. SWAMP THING (V.O.) (CONT'D) Leave me. ABBY Alec. SWAMP THING (V.O.) LEAVE ME. And she's caught up in sudden, purposeful wave, thrusting her towards the shore on a crest, and she's spit out onto the mud bank ... wet and naked and alone. ABBY You are human, Alec. ... but only a chorus of crickets respond. EXT. UNION BANK DEPOSITORY - DAY A stately, monumental building with marble columns. A shit car is parked directly outside its front entrance, its driver, JIMMY "Slick" MURPHY, 20's, furtively glances over his shoulder-- the coast is clear. Across the street, in a public park, a FIVE-YEAR OLD KID, stares evenly at Slick, licking an ice-cream cone. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) What in the bloody hell do you think you're doing, Boston? Legs stretched out on a park bench, cigarette smoke rises from behind a New York Post. The Kid ignores him. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) (CONT'D) I know you can hear me. BOSTON/KID Screw you, Blondie. The newspaper folds: JOHN CONSTANTINE. A smirk. CONSTANTINE I have a proposition for you. (CONTINUED) 31. BOSTON/KID Get lost. I'm in the middle of sumpthin. From a picnic table far behind them, a YOUNG MOTHER stands: YOUNG MOTHER (calling out) Sebastian? I see you. What are you doing over there? CONSTANTINE Yes, "Sebastian". Why don't you tell your mum what you're up to? BOSTON/KID (calling back) Mommy, this nice man is offering me candy and a ride in his van. CONSTANTINE I know when I'm not wanted. He stands, flicking his cigarette butt. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Jus' thought a dead man might wanna know: I can bring you back to life. The Kid slow burns, facing him-- BOSTON/KID What are you saying--? ALARMS SUDDENLY RING DOWN THE STREET And THREE MEN wearing ski masks rush out of the bank, carrying duffel bags; they dive into the getaway car-- GO!GO!GO! CONSTANTINE Let's talk about it. Over a pint. BOSTON/KID I'm a lil busy at the moment-- He's SWOOPED up into his Mother's arms, yanked away, and-- BOSTON BRAND, aka DEADMAN, "jumps" from the Kid's body-- (a white-faced, red-costumed GHOST soars through the air) CONSTANTINE Oh, no you don't, don't you dare- (CONTINUED) 32. --and POSSESSES John Constantine's body. He blinks, Boston getting his bearings in his new means of transport, then-- HE TAKES OFF AFTER THE GETAWAY CAR Sprinting down the center of the street, trench coat flapping-- BOSTON/CONSTANTINE Jesus, John. Don't you work out? STOPS dead in his tracks-- COUGHS violently into his hand: ... droplets of blood. He looks up, searching: a WOMAN, 20's, ear buds, yoga pants, HEALTHY, jogs in the park, and-- Boston JUMPS from John's body and POSSESSES the WOMAN JOGGER. CONSTANTINE (holding his head) Where the hell are you going? And Boston/Jogger takes off SPRINTING, fast, athletic, heading for an intersection-- THE TRAFFIC LIGHT TURNS RED, the getaway car BLOWS THROUGH IT, and she RUNS up the bumper, trunk, and back windshield of an idle vehicle, standing on its roof-- THERE'S THE GETAWAY CAR, making a sharp turn into an ALLEY-- She HOPS from car roof to car roof, making her way for-- A MOTORCYCLE COP, kick-starting his engine. Boston JUMPS into his body (the Jogger is left on top of a car, scratching her head) and Boston/Cop GUNS IT, slipping down the alley-- ON THE CHASE NOW, lights and sirens blaring, RACING down-- BAM!BAM!BAM! --the bank robbers are shooting at Boston/Cop-- BAM! --and the cycle's front tire is BLOWN OUT, the cycle wobbling for a panicky moment, and Boston/Cop LEAPS for a hanging phone cable, like a high bar, SWINGS full circle-- (the motorcycle CRASHES into a dumpster) --he FLIPS in the air, graceful, acrobatic, GRABS a FIRE ESCAPE, and SWINGS himself up onto it, racing up the steps, zig-zagging up the building-- THE ROOF ... All of Manhattan reaches out as far as the eye can see, spectral and eerie-looking in the SOLAR ECLIPSE half-light. Boston/Cop stands directly beneath a gigantic BILLBOARD: "Zatanna - The Mistress of Magic - Extended again!" (CONTINUED) 33. The raven-haired magician flashes a come-hither look. Below, in the intricate maze of the city streets-- the getaway car is getting away. Boston/Cop looks further down the street: SPOTS A SEMI-TRUCK Coming from the opposite direction of the getaway car, and-- Boston JUMPS from the Cop's body to its TRUCK DRIVER-- YANKS HARD at the steering wheel, the semi-truck HOPPING a median, CUTTING the getaway car off with a SCREEEEECH-- Everyone SLAMS THEIR BRAKES, the semi-truck suddenly-- BOSTON/TRUCK DRIVER Oh, shit. JACKKNIFES, its cargo-bed full of TRACTOR TIES, swings out into traffic, TIPS, and the TRACTOR TIRES bounce down the street, huge, ridiculous, PEDESTRIANS being chased by tires-- A SINGLE TRACTOR TIRE bounces towards a lil OLD LADY, sitting at an outdoor CAFE, nibbling on a scone-- her eyes pop open: Boston sees this, JUMPS from the Truck Driver, POSSESSES the Old Lady, and DIVE-ROLLS out of the way, just in the nick of time, as the tire SMASHES into the cafe window-- The Old Lady pops up, quick on her feet, SPOTS ... The getaway car, making a messy U-turn, and ... THE OLD LADY TAKES AFTER THE CAR, running as fast as her brittle bones will allow, a walking cane pumping in her hand-- CONSTANTINE (O.S.) Look at you, Boston, being the hero. BOSTON/OLDY LADY I'm no hero-- Boston/Old Lady runs past John, standing at a street corner-- BOSTON/OLDY LADY (CONT'D) One of these jerk-offs murdered me. Boston JUMPS into John again and he SPRINTS down the street-- BOSTON/CONSTANTINE Christ, Blondie. The old lady's in better shape than you are. (CONTINUED) 34. A PATROL CAR zips past Boston/John-- Boston JUMPS into the DRIVER's body, leaving John in the middle of the road again: CONSTANTINE Goddamnit, Boston, stop doing that. INT. NYPD PATROL CAR - MOVING Two patrolmen, BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE and his PARTNER, 30's: PARTNER (into a radio handset) --one car, a red 2012 Hyundai Sonata, three assailants-- BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE Four. He GUNS IT, the car jolting forward at an impossible speed. PARTNER Jesus, Mike, slow down. But he won't, catching up quick on the getaway car-- CRACK! he SLAMS up against the car bumper-- CRACK! again and again, till the bumper falls off, banging down the street. PARTNER (CONT'D) --the hell are you doin? HE VEERS INTO ONCOMING TRAFFIC, weaving in and out of rushing cars (HONKS) and Boston/Officer Mike ROARS up alongside the Driver's side; locks eyes with the Jimmy "Slick" Murphy ... SMASHES sideways into the getaway car, the car bouncing right-- INTO A CONSTRUCTION SITE, a half-finished PARKING GARAGE. The getaway car RACES up a series of RAMPS, up and up, the patrol car on its ass, all cars moving fast for ... THE ROOF. A dead end. The getaway car spins to a hard STOP. Boston LEAPS into one of the Bank Robber's bodies, POSSESSING a BIG DUDE wearing a ski-mask, sitting in the passenger seat. BOSTON/BANK ROBBER This is it, fellas. Game over. We gotta turn ourselves in. A ski-masked ROBBER in the back seat, leans forward: BANK ROBBER Who made you leader all of a sudden? (CONTINUED) 35. BOSTON/BANK ROBBER You're the leader, then? Boston jumps into the LEADER's body-- BOSTON/LEADER He's right, after all. Game over. Everyone just stares at each other, confused. INT. PATROL CAR The real Officer Mike holds his groggy head. OFFICER MIKE What happened-- where am I? PARTNER They're getting out, look, they're-- Throwing their guns down, hands reaching for the sky. The Officers are instantly on top of them, kicking their guns, hand-cuffing them, and once the Leader is detained-- BOSTON JUMPS BACK INTO OFFICER MIKE AGAIN GRABS Slick by his necktie, and drags him away. PARTNER (CONT'D) The hell are you doin, Mike? Boston/Officer Mike pulls Slick over to the building's ledge, the guy writhing under his grip, and DANGLES him over the edge, by his tie, his shoes barely touching the edge. BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE I'm only going to ask you once. (a level stare) Did you shoot Boston Brand? SLICK Boston- who? Boston releases the tie a bit, Slick almost falls over-- SLICK (CONT'D) NO, please-- please. BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE Boston Brand. The greatest trapeze artist that ever lived, Boston Brand. Shot, murdered, at Cirque de Lune. (CONTINUED) 36. SLICK Gee, that was-- BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE 5 years ago. You have 5 seconds. SLICK I drive. I'm a driver. I don't murder people, that's not my thing, okay? But, I think I know a guy who knows a guy, alright? The contract-- from what I heard, it's just a rumor-- was made through ... the Syndicate. BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE The Scavengers? SLICK (nods) Shooter was a sniper. Ex-Blackwater guy, a mercenary, stationed in Fallujah. They call him "The Hook". BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE "The Hook'. SLICK Hey, man, look. Why do you care so much about this? It's old news. Boston leans in, a whisper: BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE I am Boston Brand. The Driver stares at him, shocked, and ... BOSTON LETS HIM GO --falling several stories down, head over heels, into ... An enormous pile of GARBAGE BAGS. CONSTANTINE (O.S.) Keeping it classy, Boston. Boston/Officer Mike spins around: Constantine, collar up. BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE You have lung cancer. CONSTANTINE And you're dead. Fine pair we make. (CONTINUED) 37. BOSTON/OFFICER MIKE Sorry, Blondie. I didn't know. Constantine lights up a cigarette. CONSTANTINE Occupational hazard. (snaps the Zippo shut) You ready to listen to me, then? SMASH CUT TO: BOSTON (prelap) No. No friggin way. INT. "BLARNEY STONE" PUB - NIGHT Constantine hunches over a scotch. CONSTANTINE Jump into some other wanker, like you jumped into me, so what? Boston hovers weightless in his unearthly form: a red jump suit with a dramatic, outsized collar; the letter "D" emblazoned on his chest. He's bald and pale white, like a ghostly Mr. Clean. (only the supernatural can see him) BOSTON It hurts me to jump into a cramper. CONSTANTINE "Cramper"? BOSTON A dead guy. A stiff. It's like trying to move inside a cement suit. CONSTANTINE Look. It's simple. Reanimate a dead body, take him for a lil spin so we can get past the security guards at his penthouse suite, use his hand as the key to the safe where the Books of Magic are stashed, save the world, blah-blah-blah, and then we're all done. Simple. BOSTON And then we use the Books to ... CONSTANTINE --make you human again, yes, of course. Whattayou say, then? (CONTINUED) 38. Boston narrow his eyes. BOSTON And what do you get outta this? CONSTANTINE Your friendship? BOSTON (snorts) CONSTANTINE Consider this an olive branch. For what happened last time. BOSTON You lied to me. About everything. You told me you were-- CONSTANTINE --using your ectoplasm to talk to my dead granny, yes, I did. BOSTON Your grandmother is alive and well and living in Liverpool. Do you know how painful it is to extract that psychic crap from my body? And you used it to get high? CONSTANTINE I'm off it, mate. Sober now, see? (raises a steady hand) "One day at a time." BOSTON How do I know I can trust you? Constantine leans forward, gets serious. CONSTANTINE Boston. You're tuned into unearthly things. You must know the Universe is unbalanced, sick. You feel it. Boston nods slightly. He feels it. (a fat, black FLY has landed on the table, unseen by them ... it cocks its head, rubbing its legs, as if plotting) CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) Woodrue. BOSTON Never heard of him. (CONTINUED) 39. CONSTANTINE The Books are very powerful. They can help you, hurt you, save the world, or destroy it. We can't let the Books fall into Woodrue's hands. BOSTON You've seen the Books, then? CONSTANTINE Well, yeah, not yet, but. BOSTON Goddamnit, John, you don't even know if they exist--? Boston starts to rise-- literally, he's FLOATING away-- CONSTANTINE HOLD UP, hold up, c'mon, Boston-- Heads turn to the commotion, the other bar PATRONS watching a disheveled, drunk Brit animatedly talk to himself. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) C'mere, siddown. Hear me out, okay? Boston reluctantly floats back to his seat. CONSTANTINE (CONT'D) According to the ancient legend-- BOSTON Great. Fairy tales. CONSTANTINE The Books of Magic possess all knowledge ... (SLOW PUSH IN on John) All history, past, present, future; the Answer to all of life's biggest mysteries. Every organized religion in the world has tried to suppress it; every government has attempted to exploit it. It's like the Farmer's Almanac for mystics and magicians; long-rumored missing, considered a myth by most, the Books were lost to history. That is, until recently. BOSTON Who found it? (CONTINUED)