StarCat/CatStar

A helicopter passes just under the camera, a police sniper leaning out of its door.
Tanks rolling out.
The interior of a little boy's room, with model airplanes hanging from the ceiling
and dinosaur dolls lined up on a shelf. A man, with swim-goggles and a hare-lip,
suddenly comes into view holding a lighted molotov cocktail; the burning rag in
the bottle gives off a guttering sound. He hurls it down from the window, bombing
out two SWAT officers moving in crouched stances across a backyard basketball
court.
A man with an RPG that says “Ghetto Blaster” on it shoots a helicopter out of the
sky.
The outcasts prove to have a secret weapon...
Tanks suddenly turn a glowing blue and burst inward as though crushed by giant
stones. Helicopters disintegrate piece-meal in midair, gently unloading their
occupants into a screaming fall. A SWAT member's head suddenly turns a
glowing blue, and begins shivering like a can in a paint shaker, suddenly
collapsing inward like crushed aluminum, sending streams of white neon spilling
from the officer's face.
A scientist with a hatchet-like, sun withered face and red-blue eyes, a bald head
and wings of stringy, bleach-like blond hair:
“I give the weapon free!” the man says in a German accent, “Only if you promise
to use it,” he says coyly, talking to the gang chieftain, with a bushy eyebrow
raised.
The men step back from an anti-matter device that has a little black ball floating
above it, rolling in place and covered in whispy blue flame.
[Close]
To a shot of the chieftain's sweat-stained face...his glorious eyes hold the vastness
and potency of his people.
He screams, “Tonight we ride for the city!!” and is greeted with a jubilant roar, to
which he raises his club.
The camera lifts upon the chieftain's raised club, showing behind him the old
gussed up police chief, burning at the stake, screaming like an old woman who is a
heavy smoker.