"Liberal Arts" Pilot - Scene 48 - "The Norwegians"
1.  EXTERIOR - TROUT COLLEGE, NEW HAMPSHIRE - WOODS - NIGHT  1.

PAN DOWN:

A verdant canopy of old-growth walnut trees. Sounds of a quick THUMP-THUMP-THUMP as a good-looking pair of college kids stumble through dense, sopping foliage. Bright lights occasionally sweep the treetops, refracting off glistening leaves.
 
                                                                   LIAM
                                    (breathless, barely audible over white noise)
                                                         What’s going on?
 
                                                                   ANYA
                                                          (looking upward)
                                                             I don’t know!

Gusts roil branches and brush in waves, corralling the two. LIAM FINN (21), a sandy haired day student at nearby Trout College who works night shifts at the local diner, protectively steadies ANYA CRISTIANI (19), freshman and scion of a wealthy El Salvadorian political family. Their shirts, already disheveled from making out, snap and whip. Anya starts at a flat, ear-splitting BLEEEEP. She trips. Bushes swallow her.

QUICK ZOOM FROM ABOVE ON:

A vortex of flattened grass radiates from Anya, prostrate. Wet leaves and dirt spiral out. A round light from an unidentified source above captures her. It intensifies.

                                                                                                                     FADE TO WHITE.

2.  INTERIOR - UNKNOWN SPACE - NIGHT  2.

CLOSE ON:

Anya’s eyes flicker open. Thick translucent plastic sheets cocoon her. Tall, slim silhouettes mill about and murmur in an alien tongue.

We see what Anya sees through still-blurry eyes: a hollow knotty pine container, filling an entire corner of a dimly lit, sanitized room; a black-and-white print of silver insulation material; two linen panels with smears of color; an upturned white podium, glowing; more plastic cascading from a vertiginous floor-to-ceiling diagonal grid...

Several figures approach Anya, their slender hands outstretched. One resembles Christian Bale.

                                                          CHRISTIAN BALE
                                                   Hvem er det? Ikke vær redd.

Anya clamps her eyes. She jerks and finds herself immersed in a shallow pool of soft, fluorescent yellow fist-sized balls. They scatter in the directions her legs and arms swing, bumping each other with diminishing force.

                                                                  ANYA
                                                           ¿Qué? Liam?

A shorter figure with jet hair silently approaches and performs an exaggerated welcome gesture, and repeats twice.

                                                                 ANYA
                                                              Aaaargh!

3.  EXTERIOR - TROUT COLLEGE - CLEARING NEAR GRASS COURTS - NIGHT  3.

SMASH CUT:

Liam cradles Anya’s body, limp as in the Pietà.

                                                                LIAM
                                                        (rocking ANYA)
                                                               Anya!

Anya GASPS as she regains consciousness.

                                                               LIAM
                                               Thank god you’re alright.

                                                              ANYA
                                                         (eyes wide)
                                         Where was I? What happened?

                                                              LIAM
                                                 You fainted, I think.

                                                       LIAM (CONT’D)
               (nodding toward a charcoal grey helicopter in a clearing to the side)
                                         It looks like we’ve been found out.

The chopper’s glaring searchlights dim as the blades slow: THUMP...THUMP. PRESIDENT CRISTIANI OF EL SALVADOR, Anya’s father, emerges followed by his black-suited entourage.

                                                             ANYA
         (looking curiously toward the stars, glimmering now in the blackened, silent night)
                                        Yes, it looks like we have been found...

                                                                                                                               FADE OUT.