SLEEPING WITH THE ENEMY

INT. SCREENED PORCH - MORNING

Rays of SUNLIGHT illuminate two cylindrical BIRD FEEDERS.
A green garden HOSE snakes through the CRABGRASS, nurturing a small CRABTREE on a dirt MOUND.

BRIAN (V.O.)
We could use some rain. As much as I'd like to deprive every blade of crabgrass its moisture, the plants and trees need water. What a by-product of this cycle, that damned grass.
(beat)
Which is much like writing: sometimes strange little by-products grow out during my typing journey, and if they're interesting I can feed them. A lot are just pegged for a big squirt of "Round-Up", there are some ideas that shouldn't be allowed to grow.

EXT. CORN FIELD - DAY

From between rows of CORN we see the front of a low, incoming, WHITE PLANE, light REFLECTING off the COCKPIT. It BUZZES over our heads, leaving a thick WAFT of WIND and SPRAY, sending the CROP HEADS waving.

CUT TO:

INT. CROP DUSTER - DAY

We see the pilot, it's Brian, he pulls hard back on the STICK, sending the plane straight UP. He applies RUDDER and spins 180 degrees on axis, DIVING back down in perfect line with the CORNROWS.

BRIAN
(loudly)
YEAH! Textbook IMMELMAN maneuver!!

As he comes down for another run, he spots the SILHOUETTE of an approaching AIRCRAFT, directly out of the sun.

BRIAN
(surprised)
BOGEY? What the..

Following BOELCKE'S DICTA, he chooses to face the oncoming craft HEAD ON, giving full throttle.

BRIAN
(determined)
Come on, mother..

CUT TO:

EXT. VILLAIN'S BI-PLANE - DAY

We zoom in on the aged BI-PLANE. It's a SPUTTERING matte-black bird, patched with silver DUCT TAPE. In bright yellow-green script the moniker "CRABGRASS" is painted on its dented sides.

The planes pass at TOP SPEED in a NEAR COLLISION.

CUT TO:

INT. CROP DUSTER - DAY

BRIAN
(pissed)
F'n CRABGRASS!!

Brian pulls another IMMELMAN, setting him directly on the TAIL of the AGRESSOR, who is dropping a LARGE load of CRABGRASS seed into the CORNROWS. The CESSNA easily catches up to the ragged BI-PLANE.

BRIAN
(angrily)
In my sights now you..

The CESSNA BARREL ROLLS, releasing a thick MIST of ROUND-UP, enveloping the BI-PLANE. The AGGRESSOR'S craft coughs and SPUTTERS, quickly TURNING AWAY from the fight. It LIMPS away in DEFEAT.

BRIAN
There's more where that came from, buddy!

The alabaster CESSNA RISES in VICTORY, spiraling straight up in a CORKSCREW, a symbolic, aerodynamic FIST PUMP!

Just then there is a DEAD SILENCE, the ENGINE HAS CUT OUT! Brian FIGHTS to maintain CONTROL.

BRIAN
(worried)
HOLY!!..

WIth the CRAFT righted and GLIDING, Brian seeks out a LANDING SPOT among the geometrical forms of EARTH, chosing a BRIGHT green, small square near a FARMHOUSE.

BRIAN
(clenching)
This is it, c'mon baby..

The plane DIVES for the PATCH, Brian releasing the FLAPS to slow descent in the last possible second.

FWOOSH!!! The plane's landing is PADDED by the thick, lush green VEGETATION.

BRIAN
(relieved)
Oh man, thank god for this...

He peers out the window to see what SAVED him from the POTENTIALLY FATAL CRASH.

BRIAN
(pissed)
CRABGRASS???

FADE OUT!