2 years have passed since Vinnie Balboa’s street fight, and subsequent conviction. He has been in a high security prison, honing his body and mind. Eating steaks, lifting weights and reading Women’s Weekly (sadly the only literature provided to prisoners, due to budget cuts)
*Opening shot of the interior prison – it’s dark and dingy. The cell doors are bars, and prisoners are kept 2 to a cell. A permanent cloud of cigarette smoke lingers in the humid air.*
*Bird’s eye of the Yard. It is a large concrete yard, surrounded by high electrified fence and multiple guard towers. All the men are in orange jumpsuits. Some are lifting weights, some are playing basketball. Some are smoking cigarettes and some are simply enjoying the sunny weather and blue skies.*
*Vinnie is alone in the, pumping a benchpress. A large black man breaks away from his group of homies, and approaches Vinnie. Camera zoom.*
Blackman: You finished, G.I Joe. Gimme that benchpress nigga
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): I ain’t done
Blackman: You about to be done, nigga! MOVE befo’ I cut that ass up!!
*The loud voices have attracted the attention of Blackman’s crew (5 black men), who are now looking over from across the yard.*
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Why don’t you, uh, go back to your pals there, uh ok? They look like they missin’ you
Blackman: The fuck? You back-talking me boy?
*Blackman’s crew approaches. All 6 Black men are staring at Vinnie Balboa aggressively*
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Oh, hey, look at this. It’s a party! Which one of you got the beers. C’mon boys, can’t have a party without beer
Blackman: ‘BOYS’ ? FUCKIN –
*the men surround Vinnie Balboa. A brief scuffle ensues, before guards swarm the yard and break up the fight*
*Guards are dragging away the blacks. The prison is now in lockdown. Men are filing back into their cells. A lone guard approaches Vinnie’s cell. He is an old man with thinning white hair and kind eyes*
Guard: Vinnie Balboa, what happened in the yard yesterday
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Uhh I dunno Brucie. Just a little party with the boys, you know?
Brucie: Yea, you know how that goes… you ‘party’ with them niggers, you die.. or worse
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Don’t worry about it Brucie, I uh, I can take care of myself
Brucie: Alright Vinnie.. You’ve stayed outta trouble so far – even stayed away from the organised prison fights – I just don’t wanna see you fuck it all up
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): I appreciate this Brucie. You’ve been like a father to me in this cage for the past couple years. I won’t fuck up again,I promise.
Brucie: Alright Vinnie, alright. I came here to warn you, them niggers you pissed off have put a contract on your head. A carton of smokes for the crew that kills ya
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech):Anyone bite?
Brucie: …The Mexicans. They’ve taken the contract Vinnie. You’re in trouble, you know how those gangbanging latinos are. I’ve seen them do things that’d make any decent man si –
*Vinnie Balboa interrupts*
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech): Brucie, let it be Brucie. Tell me one thing, though. Just this one thing
Brucie: What is it my boy
Vinnie Balboa (in slurred speech):They only put up one carton? I’m worth more than that Brucie, you know. At least 3 cartons of smokes *grins*
Brucie: shut the fuck up and go to sleep, you silly son of a bitch
*Both men laugh*
*Vinnie Balboa is asleep. Prison lights are out. A lone stranger is seen sneaking through the shadows. Flashes of moonlight illuminate his tattooed skin. ‘LOCO MAFIOSO’ across the chest … “HOMBRE 21st STREET ESES” across the shoulders…A portrait of the Virgin Mary Tattooed across his back. She is weeping red tears, a forlorn look on her face. Beneath her portrait, are tatted the words “Angel De La Muerta’ – Angel of Death.*
*Angel of Death enters Vinnie Balboas cell – he has a key. He holds a small knife, which glimmers in the darkness. He approaches Vinnie Balboa, and leans close to the sleeping fighter…*
Angel of Death: *whispers* Mary Mother of God, forgive me…