CONTEXT: (Without giving much away)

Faith is being held captive by a corporation she has no idea about. She sits, handcuffed, in a sort of interrogation room, closely monitored by a man called Bob Bradshaw. When she orders him to tell her why she is being held there, he is consistently evasive. However, he makes it clear they are not the police. He produces files that accurately document Faith's entire life up until the present time. Faith is shocked, and equally pissed off. It's time for her to go in for the kill. But she's grown since her reckless youth - this kill is much less literal, but still stabs at Bradshaw where it hurts. (This isn't the start of the scene, by the way, just the more interesting part)

FAITH

So whereabouts d'ya live?

Bradshaw looks at her strangely, unsure why she has posed this question.

FAITH
Come on. You know all that shit about me! It's

only fair.

(beat)

Detached in the burbs, am I right?

BRADSHAW

(beat)
I'm sorry?

FAITH
You got a house with the missus just outside

the city.

BRADSHAW

Yes.

FAITH

And a porch swing? A guest room? Mercedes

Benz?

BRADSHAW

Faith, this isn't really relev --

FAITH

(ignoring)

And ya seem like a stand up guy, really, so

I'm guessin' you got yourself a buncha

little ankle biters too. How old?

Bradshaw traces his index finger around the rim of his water glass.

BRADSHAW

(reluctantly)

Seventeen, eight and three. And… another one on

the way.

FAITH
Congrats.

Bradshaw smiles his thanks, never actually looking at Faith.

FAITH

D'you know what it is yet?

Bradshaw's gradually letting his guard down now.

BRADSHAW
Um… no. I thought it'd be nice to wait.

FAITH

And how about that seventeen year old, huh? A

boy? --

BRADSHAW

(intercut)
-- A boy, yeah.

FAITH

S'gotta be a handful.

Bradshaw exaggerates an eye-roll and pretends to speak regretfully.

BRADSHAW

Won't argue that.

FAITH

(grinning)

You gotta rebel in the family?

Bradshaw half-laughs, agreeing.

FAITH (cont'd)

Man, some kids are just so damn ungrateful.

What was it, a… wrong crowd at school or

somethin'?

BRADSHAW
No. I don't think so. His friends always

seemed so… normal.

FAITH
Yeah, they always seem that way.

BRADSHAW
I'm pretty sure it's not their fault.

FAITH
Oh. Okay. So are you sure you made it to every

soccer game he ever had?

BRADSHAW

(smiling)
Here we go.

FAITH
(fake ignorance)

What?

Bradshaw simply continues smiling.

FAITH
Somethin' funny?

BRADSHAW

Don't presume I don't know what you're trying

to do.

FAITH

I'm not tryin' anything. I'm just sayin' you

gotta ask yourself why a teen from a fancy,

righty way of living would go down the wrong

track. These types-a cotton wool kids don't go

offa the rails for nothin', y'know.

BRADSHAW

Oh, whereas because you grew up on benefits,

I guess that means the hate and anger you

had inside you was already innately there to

begin with. So nothing can ever your fault,

'cause it was all… predetermined.

Bradshaw gets closer to her, gets down on his knee and looks further into her eyes.

BRADSHAW
Fact of the matter is you still think you've

got one up on people like me. I see it in

your people everyday. You think you've got

more of an excuse for the crimes you've

committed because you grew up on the poor side

of town. But Faith, I'm afraid that just doesn't

cut it. Even in the eyes of the law we have.

FAITH

I kinda got the memo on that when they gave me

a life sentence.

BRADSHAW
Of which you completed three years.

FAITH
I'm a vampire slayer. I had to escape. There

were circumstances.

BRADSHAW
But there aren't anymore. So why don't you go

back? Why don't you do your time, just like I

would if I were in your shoes? Hmn? Why is it

that you don't wanna pay your debt to society?

(beat)

C'mon, say it.

Faith just glares at him.

BRADSHAW

(beat)
'Cause society's done fuck all for you.

Faith looks up at him with disdain. There is a long beat. They keep looking at each other for a while. Bradshaw sits down again, and once more traces his finger around his glass's rim.

FAITH

Maybe you shouldn't be so high and mighty about

your status, Bob. I don't need masses of paper

and files to work you out. You can't stand all

that all-American crap. Like, even though wearing

a watch is a pretty much a must for any

respectable suit like you, you don't, and it's

'cause you can't handle the daily grind of routine.

It's the sorta thing that slowly kills a guy

like you.

She glances on the table at the keys.

FAITH

(beat)

And one little glance at the trophy from your

glory days… Black Sabbath key ring… --

ANGLE: BLACK SABBATH KEY RING ON KEYS

FAITH

-- and the five o clock shadow you didn't wanna

shave off today, because you just had to do

something different, and it's wicked obvious, man.

You need some spice, you need some danger in

ya life.

BRADSHAW

Is that right?

FAITH

Could fool me.

(beat)

Nah, but these things, letting it out all out

in short bursts, it's not workin' for ya.

Don't exactly blame you, it doesn't work for

most guys. So you need this extra somethin',

right? Somethin' that is so out there it's

untrue. Just so you can go home at night and

feel satisfied, but still prepared for the

nine to five the next day, y'know? So, what

is it, Bob? What's your real edge? I'm bettin'

dirty motel call girls during yer lunch hour

should do the trick.

(then)

And then you wonder if yer eldest really did

take after you after all.