I would love to see these original treatments Singer had in the first drafts of the X-Men script finally be given the light of day in the First Class film...
EXT. SKY - DAY
Bright, bright blue framing a blinding white sun.
PAN DOWN AGAIN TO REVEAL:
The cracked, drought-stricken soil of nowhere.
TITLES:
KENYA - 1978
A group of children at play. Tribal children who,
without the help of the titles, could be from any age.
They run through a tiny village of tents, playing. Every
child holds a long reed-like stick and they chase each
other playing their version of tag.
As each child is tapped, they chase the others. Each
trying to avoid being "it", though never going far enough
away to miss the fun.
One girl in particular. A PRETTY GIRL OF 12, with
unusual white hair, is tagged and immediately shunned.
She chases kids this way and that, but to no avail. She
is not strong enough, nor agile enough, to win.
She tumbles and lands on her stick, snapping it. She
stands and, when the children see that her stick is
broken, they begin to giggle.
The giggles become laughter and the laughter becomes a
taunt, and before we even realize, the inherent cruelty
of children let loose becomes evident.
They have now formed a circle, at first avoiding her
touch with distance, but now growing tighter with menace.
In the unspoken manner of children at prey, the group
begins to chant in their native tongue - a song we have
not heard but sung in a way none-too inviting. They
begin to poke at her with the reeds, driving her back.
The girl now moves to the center of the circle, no longer
wishing to tag anyone.
ONE DEVIOUS CHILD seems to get an idea. He takes his
stick and smacks it across her shoulder. She turns to
face the child and another swings his stick across her
back with a solid THWACK. Before long, mob rule gives
way and all the kids are swinging at her and laughing.
It grows to the brink of frenzy, the laughing and the
shouting not too unlike the noise of the previous scene.
So much so, we may miss the first flake of snow. The
children certainly do. It is snowing for a good ten
seconds before the last of them stops.
By then, the snow is thick as flies and wafting down to
melt instantly on the hot African soil that has never
seen snow before.
ANGLE ON:
Adults come out of their huts and in from the fields and
the whole of the village is soon gathered around the
little girl, staring up from the clear blue sky and the
snow that falls from nowhere. From nothing.
One by one, all eyes fall on the little girl and the
looks of curiosity become looks of fear. Of
superstition.
Punctuated by a solid thump.
And then another.
AN OLD MAN looks down at his feet and sees a tiny,
misshapen ball of ice, no bigger than his eye. He looks
at it, bites it, then pops it in his mouth - breath
turning to steam.
Another such chunk of ice pops him on the head. THE
CROWD LAUGHS.
They look up again and see that mixed with the snow are
tiny pellets of hail, seeming to increase in number as
the snow mysteriously wanes.
And the pellets are getting larger. Until they land as
hunks.
The white haired girl drops to the ground and covers her
head as hailstones the size of baseballs plow into the
Earth.
Before long, tents are collapsing and panic ensues.
And all along the white haired girl sits huddled in the
dust, crying.
As hailstones fall in a circle around her, never coming
closer than then a few feet or so.
INT. HIGH SCHOOL GYMNASIUM - NIGHT
ONE MORE SKY. This one a backdrop. Cheap paint and
tissue paper hung with hooks on a wall just behind the
basket on a full court.
As we pull back, we see the skyline of New York, crudely
made out with its silhouette buildings of dark gray and
black - windows of yellow.
Among the famous landmarks represented is the Statue of
Liberty, complete with a real light bulb burning in the
torch.
We are at a prom. The theme is RHAPSODY IN BLUE and the
decor has made tragic efforts to show it. The
tablecloths are blue, the napkins are blue - far too many
of the tuxes are powder blue, and the blue eye shadow is
as heavy as expected.
Peter Gabriel's "In Your Eyes" gives painful indication
of the era, but here it is, nonetheless:
SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA - 1986
MOVE ACROSS THE FLOOR and through the swaying, clutching,
sweating dancers to the bathroom.
Through the door to the usual -
INT. BOYS BATHROOM - NIGHT
Several boys are here, bow ties undone - unclipped in
most cases. Smoking, drinking from whatever inventive
container was used to smuggle in booze. Breath freshener
and Visine are the chaser.
Some of the guys are rolling joints while others make the
sad effort to wave smoke away. Who are they kidding?
It's a fog in here.
MOVE DOWN THE ROW OF TOILET STALLS to one in particular.
Here we find A FRECKLED KID standing in front of mirror,
clearly holding himself up from the effect of God knows
what.
He talks to his friend in the he stall behind him.
FRECKLED KID
Man, what's the matter with you?
His friend is on the toilet with his head in his hands.
He seems to be in some pain. He is SCOTT SUMMERS - AGE
17.
FRECKLED KID (contíd)
Dude. Lighten up. She's just a girl.
You just gotta-
SCOTT
No, my eyes... my eyes are killing me.
The Freckled kid offers a small plastic bottle.
FRECKLED KID
You want some Visine, man?
SCOTT
My... eyes...
The freckled kid looks and sees that Scott's eyes are
watering so badly that tears are literally streaming
through his fingers.
He goes back to the mirror to look at his own.
SCOTT
... they're burning...
The freckled kid turns back to him.
FRECKLED KID
Dude, how much did you smoke?
SCOTT
I didn't smoke anything.
Scott looks up, taking his hands away, revealing for an
instant that his eyes are merely bright red embers in his
head. Featureless but for the color.
Freckles takes a step back.
INT. GYM - OUTSIDE BOYS ROOM - NIGHT
A blinding flash of light shows through the frosted glass
in the double door and cuts through the crack into the
dark of the gym.
All who see it are stunned. Frozen. A lingering moment
of confusion, then:
BOOM, the doors to the Boys Room burst open and the
occupants scatter into the gym.
INT. GYM - STALL - NIGHT
Freckles is still there, legs locked.
FRECKLES' P.O.V.
He looks at Scott who is now crying meekly in the stall,
covering his eyes again -- afraid to open them.
The door of the stall across from him swings closed TO
REVEAL:
A HOLE, PUNCHED THROUGH THE STALL DOOR framing Scott's
face perfectly. Pull back to reveal that the hole
continues through the wall, into the girl's bathroom next
door.
In the corner several girls huddle together, they are
afraid.
The whole plot was him saving the day at the end, when in X1 and X2 it was a group effort to stop the final threat. 
t:
