COLD OPEN: INT.

BACKSTAGE GENERAL - NIGHT INTENSE MUSIC PLAYS-- could be TWO STEPS FROM HELL - RISING FORCE. The large room filled with people and props oozes organized chaos as this jumbled mass scurries about, each in his own world. Men and women in headsets peer at clipboards and shout commands inaudibly. Other lower rung workers swing long racks of suits through narrow corridors of jittery performers. DISSOLVE TO: A rack as it swings around a group and stops in front of a MIDDLE AGED MAN, slightly over weight, slightly balding... completely non-threatening. His paunchy belly is stuffed into a white tank top. This top is tucked into a pair of white boxers. Dark knee high socks adorn his feet. The man takes a suit from the rack. The camera continues onwards, banks right... FADE TO: INT. BACKSTAGE/SMALL KITCHENETTE - SAME A long table is adorned with all types of finger foods and snacks-- Colorful dishes of assorted fruits placed next to potstickers and cookies and cakes and teeny, tiny cut sandwiches filled with egg salad. A slew of personal assistants fetch coffee and fix plates. A YOUNG WOMAN finishes up, as we focus in, she dashes out past the camera with coffee in hand. The camera backs up easily and makes a three point turn to follow the young assistant with the coffee as she hurries past busy people too enthralled in their own work to notice her. She arrives at the side of a staunch, older woman who sits in front of a vanity mirror draped in white cloth. Milling around the woman are stylists and manicurists and make-up artists, all working to create a beautiful masterpiece.

(CONTINUED)

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The camera presses on. Past a few folks milling around snatching outfits from racks and applying make-up, we pull up to a SCANTILY CLAD WOMAN who notices the camera trained on her toned body. She smiles and shoo's the camera away playfully before pulling a black curtain between her and the voyeuristic camera. INT. BACKSTAGE/CORNER - MOMENTS LATER A HANDSOME MAN in a dark blue suit and red tie pace back and forth, flipping through index cards-- rehearsing, no doubt. With all the churning going on around him no one seems to want to interrupt his train of thought. Linger on him for a few moments then... DISSOLVE TO: INT. BACKSTAGE GENERAL - SAME A PRODUCER motors on chubby legs motors down the aisle of people, his face is red, his eyes bulge and he flashes five fingers frantically at anyone who will look in his direction, his message is clear-- 5 minutes till show time. The performers hurry with their finishing touches. FADE TO: INT. LARGE AUDITORIUM - MOMENTS LATER A brightly lit room filled with SOPHISTICATED PEOPLE, some sip champagne, others chit chat amongst themselves. A CAMERA MAN perched on a mobile crane swings into view, sweeping low over the crowd of audience members, we see what he sees-- One eager, happy, smiling American face after another. All of them trained intently on one thing: A darkened stage. A MAROON CURTAIN made of heavy velvet obscures their view. Suddenly the house lights dim and along the walls single blocks of red lights begin to flicker on, in rapid succession. As the lights draw nearer we can see that they read "APPLAUSE". The auditorium goes wild with SILENT CHEERS and CLAPPING.

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Spotlights flood the stage, illuminating it so brightly some people in the front row shield their eyes. The heavy velvet curtains part open to reveal a single podium branded with the PRESIDENTIAL SEAL. A semi-circle of well dressed men and women sit around the podium. ECU on the woman who had playfully shoo'd the camera amidst the seated elite. ECU on the man who had an entire rack of black suits delivered to him. ECU on the woman who was busy having her face painted on-They are all serious now. As if on cue the entire semi-circle rises to their feet. The men and women in the audience do the same. In walks MR. PRESIDENT, a handsome man in a dark blue suit and red tie-- Our pacing rehearser no longer shuffles through index cards but instead smiles broadly at the audience and waves to the cameras. The image turns grainy and digital as Mr. President makes his way to the podium. PAN OUT from the stage we see we are no longer in the auditorium but on a CLOSE UP of a T.V. SCREEN in... INT. FAMILY LIVING ROOM/TV SCREEN - SAME The presidential address continue without pause as we PAN the camera around slowly, sweeping past a house hold plant in the corner, an open window, a computer desk filled with books and finally a family of three sitting on a sofa. A conservatively dressed MOTHER, FATHER and YOUNG SON sit trance-like, the glow of their T.V set haunting the smiles they wear on their faces. ZOOM IN slowly, The family is replaced by a COLLEGE AGED MAN wearing the same smile. The camera ZOOMS IN ever closer and the young man is replaced by a Hispanic family of four-Mother, Father and two teenage daughters, smiling eerily in the dimly lit room. Faster and faster the families begin to be replaced by other people from all walks of life here in America. ZOOM IN closer and closer until we settle on one face, constantly being replaced.

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ECU - Person's eye that changes skin tone, iris color and shape so fast it's hard to make out any one in depth before it is swapped for another... Linger here for a few moments, then... The eye shuts. INTENSE MUSIC stops suddenly. CUT TO: BLACK SCREEN. TITLE CARD: "[The Creator of The Universe] programmed robots to write books and magazines and newspapers for you, and television and radio shows, and stage shows, and films... You are the only one who has to figure out what to do next-- and why. Everybody else is a robot, a machine." - Kilgor Trout