So, right before the pandemic, my wife and I published The Hive, a book that was waaaay too prescient for its own good. At one point, there was a really good chance that it was going to become a TV series, but a succession of Hollywood strikes destroyed the momentum and the project died.
Still, when we thought it was going to happen, I took some time to knock out a pilot script. Morgan took a look at it, added some great flourishes and made some terrific suggestions, and then we had something that — in my humble opinion — is pretty damn good!
Here’s a taste of the beginning. If there’s a hue and a cry for more, I shall provide!
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IT’S THREE OR FOUR YEARS FROM NOW.
Things aren’t great.
FADE IN:
BLACK SCREEN WITH A SPINNING “POWER ON” CIRCLE IN THE CENTER…
PRESIDENT OF THE UNITED STATES (V.O.)
Today, the promise of the internet is finally fulfilled in America. It’s going to be big. And beautiful. And I think people are really gonna like it, and I think it’s going to be very good for the United States of America.
Spinner stops…
A login screen appears…
WELCOME TO BLINQ!
Trend Positive!
FADE TO:
INT. MESSY BEDROOM
CASSIE McKINNEY (17, biracial) lays on her back on an unmade bed, looking up at us. We don’t know whose bedroom this is, but it’s not hers. She has seen better days — her hair is basically hacked to oblivion, as though she lost a battle with a samurai hairdresser, and she has bruises and cuts on her face. Some of the cuts are bandaged — those are the worst ones. She’s bone- tired, but there’s a glint in her eyes.
CASSIE
In retrospect… I probably shouldn’t have done it.
EXT. MICROSOFT/BUZZFEED UNIVERSITY CAMPUS QUAD — NIGHT
It’s several weeks prior. Cassie’s hair is in much better shape and she’s only got one or two bruises. And oh yeah — she’s running like hell in the dark, charging up a hill. From behind her, voices of a crowd and the relentless PING! of smartphone alerts going off EVERYWHERE. Cellphone lights bob and weave in the distance.
RACHEL (O.S.)
Run, Cassie! Run!
Cassie runs like hell, breathing hard, and the night closes around her and the screen goes black…
TITLE: THE HIVE fades in, then out.
Blinq messages (think tweets) begin to fly across the black screen…
Any Mobs today? I have the day off and I’m bored! #savemefrommyself
Nice day for some Hive Justice! Look at that sunshine! Who’s heading to #MonsterNotAMan?
#BLINQReaderPoll3995: Is #MichaelJones a monster or a man? Vote: bl.inq/poll3995
HIVE ALERT: #MonsterNotAMan rally happening now in Rasche Field
And so on…
We…
FADE IN:
EXT. RASCHE FIELD — DAY
TITLE: HIVE ALERT: #MichaelJones has arrived. Hive Justice set to begin momentarily. #RascheField #MonsterNotAMan
Now we jump back yet another week or so before the scene of Cassie running in the dark… (Don’t worry — we’ll be in this timeframe for a good long while!)
A crowd presses down the street and through the open gate in a chainlink fence to a local park/ball field. People are chanting “MONSTER NOT A MAN!” and “HIVE JUSTICE!” It feels like a mash-up of a pep rally and the storming of the Bastille. Some people are wearing FACE MASKS, some aren’t.
In amongst the throng, we focus in on Cassie, who is unmolested, unharmed, just fine thankyouverymuch. She’s caught up in the excitement, chanting along with everyone else. She wears a set of wireless earbuds.
SOCIAL FEED A.I.
(from earbuds)
Update on #HiveJustice #MonsterNotAMan! Michael Jones has arrived. Prepare to–
She taps her left earbud.
SOCIAL FEED A.I.
Would you like a recap?
CASSIE
Yes. I mean–
SOCIAL FEED A.I.
Michael Jones posted anonymously about his marital misgivings in the wake of his wife’s cancer diagnosis–
CASSIE
(rolling her eyes)
Stop recap!
SOCIAL FEED A.I.
–post went viral and doxxers exposed his identity four days ago. Condemn threshold was exceeded in three hours, leading to Level 1 and Range 1 sanction, #publicjunk. Final tally was two percent Like, thirty-one percent Dislike, sixty-seven percent Condemn.
She slaps at the earbud until it shuts up. A roar goes up from the crowd and she re-focuses her attention on… …a slight, white, sandy-haired man slowly mounting a set of bleachers. He’s about thirty-five and wears glasses. The crowd goes crazy. Cassie gets back into it, chanting and thrusting her fist into the sky. It’s a moment of sheer mob mentality. People are in a frenzy.
He gets to the top bleacher, turns to the crowd. There’s a quiet, inevitable dignity to his poise. He sighs, unbuttons the first button on his shirt– –crowd LOSES IT–
Then he pauses, removes his glasses, and tucks them into his shirt pocket.
Cassie freezes at the sight, as though someone has just punched her in the gut and stolen her breath. The crowd around her goes nuts as the man begins removing his clothes to reveal a very ordinary dad-bod.
CASSIE
Wait…
The crowd starts filming. Cellphones and the occasional DSLR raised up, jostling for the best shot. The Man bears up under it well, not giving the jeering mob the satisfaction of reacting as they taunt and film him.