Ext. Morning, cloudy.
Charles Dance sits at a table in the courtyard of a brutalist skyscraper. He watches a couple meet and hug, as though they haven’t seen each other in quite some time. He is not moved by their reunion, despite his piqued interest. The couple moves to leave the courtyard and he stands up from the table. Maybe he’s interested in where they’re going. Maybe he can figure out what prompted their emotion, get to the essence of what makes them human in order to better understand humanity. He begins to walk but he hears the soft ping of a silenced pistol, firing twice. Two bullets rip through him from behind, taking his life and all intentions of finding out about the couple he saw in the courtyard with it.
Charles Dance steps onto the scene, tucking a silenced pistol into his coat. “Let the ga–” Two soft pings of a silenced pistol rip through the air, striking Charles Dance in the back, taking his life and all intentions of finishing his sentence with it.
Charles Dance steps onto the scene, tucking a silenced pistol in his coa– Two soft pings of a silenced pistol rip through the air, striking Charles Dance in the back, taking his life and all intentions of tucking his pistol into his coat with it.
The camera pans to reveal Charles Dance, taking a pistol from somewhere in his coat and raising it toward Charles Dance, who just shot Charles Dance, in front of him, but before he can pull the trigger, he hears the soft pings of silenced pistol firing twice and is struck twice in the back, taking his life and all intentions of shooting Charles Dance in the back to take his life and intentions of tucking the silenced pistol into his coat and presumably saying, “Let the Games Begin,” before walking off screen with it.
The camera pans over a courtyard full of the bodies of Charles Dance in various states of having shot or being shot by Charles Dance.