© 2009 by Claude & Gino Caputi
EXT. AIRPORT - DAY
The crisp, acapella voices of the 'The 82nd Airborne All American Army Chorus' belt out 'The Battle Hymn of The Republic' as a charter plane slowly descends toward a hot, dusty, runway.
Voices and images of 'The War On Terror' shimmer in and out of frame with the heat rising from the runway's asphalt.
The charter plane touches down and taxis on the tarmac.
INT. AIRPORT - DAY
HANK ROBINSON, a powerfully built and severe-looking man in his late 30's dressed in camo-gear, empties keys, change and what looks to be a custom-made PDA into a plastic tub on a table near a security station. He then removes his boots, places them in the tub, and walks through a metal detector.
The detector lets out a high-pitched beep.
A diminutive, female SECURITY GUARD, 50, rushes over to him, waving a hand-held metal detector up and down his heroic frame.
Turn around, please.
Hank complies. Using the detector, the Security Guard covers the area from Hank's neck down to his ankles.She then begins to feel his pockets and around the groin area
Hank shows little emotion save for an irritated squint.
TITLE CARD: 'AN-AMERICAN'
EXT. SACRAMENTO AIRPORT - DAY
Hank waits by himself in front of a taxi stand until a camouflage-colored 1970 CHEVY K5 Blazer charges around the corner. The Blazer is flawlessly maintained, souped-up and jacked-up to a menacing height with triple shocks and 44-inch tires. The top rear of the cab is outfitted with a large spoiler while several long antennas crop up from various windows and corners.
TRISH, 36, a short, muscular spitfire of a woman with close-cropped hair and a bomber jacket, brings the Blazer to a halt and hops out.
Hank! Welcome back to God's country!
Hank gives her a big hug.
You wanna drive?
Trish moves around to the passenger side as Hank put his stuff in back.
Prominently placed in the bottom left and right hand corners of the cargo door window are the stickers, 'WHEN THEY OUTLAW GUNS, I BECOME AN OUTLAW,' and 'CAN I PAY THE I.R.S. IN LEAD?'