"In writing fiction, the more fantastic the tale, the plainer the prose should be. Don't ask your readers to admire your words when you want them to believe your story." - Ben Bova [ more quotes ]

"SWINGERS"

by

Jon Favreau

Dec. 13, 1994

Third Draft



EXT. HOLLYWOOD - NIGHT

The soundtrack opens with Frank Sinatra's "Fly Me to the
Moon".

A HELICOPTER SHOT OF THE L.A. basin.

The pool of golden light disintegrates into the thousands of
points which constitute it as we rapidly draw closer to the
city.

We are just above the tops of the highest buildings as we
approach Hollywood Boulevard. Below is neon and the icy thrust
of search lights rotating on the corner of Hollywood and
Vine.

We continue west, then quickly north.

There is the momentary appearance of the moonlit HOLLYWOOD
sign as we pass the blinking red beacon of the Capital Records
building and drop into Franklin avenue and over the 101.

Architectural remnants of Hollywood's past whip up. We are
heading east at treetop level. A warm glow in the distance
quickly grows into a modest commercial strip which includes
cafes, bookstores, and a theater.

We drop to eye level as we spy through the plate glass
showcase window of the "Bourgeois Pig" coffeehouse, which
holds the translucent reflection of the full moon.

A cigarette wedged between knuckles smoulders. MIKE takes
the last drag with great effort, then crushes it out. He
sits in the window sprawled across a red velvet couch that
once perfectly complemented a faux spanish foyer.

MATCH CUT TO:

EXT. "BOURGEOIS PIG" COFFEEHOUSE - COUCHES AND TABLE IN
FRONT OF WINDOW - NIGHT

ROB sits down next to Mike, pouring himself some tea.

MIKE
And what if I don't want to give up
on her?

ROB
You don't call.

MIKE
But you said I shouldn't call if I
wanted to give up on her.

ROB
Right.

MIKE
So I don't call either way.

ROB
Right.

MIKE
So what's the difference?

ROB
The only difference between giving
up and not giving up is if you take
her back when she wants to come back.
See, you can't do anything to make
her want to come back. You can only
do things to make her not want to
come back.

MIKE
So the only difference is if I forget
about her or pretend to forget about
her.

ROB
Right.

MIKE
Well that sucks.

ROB
It sucks.

MIKE
So it's almost a retroactive decision.
So I could, like, let's say, forget
about her and when she comes back
make like I just pretended to forget
about her.

ROB
Right... or more likely the opposite.

MIKE
Right... Wait, what do you mean?

ROB
I mean first you'll pretend not to
care, not call -- whatever, and then,
eventually, you really won't care.

MIKE
Unless she comes back first.

ROB
Ah, see, that's the thing. Somehow
they don't come back until you really
don't care anymore.

MIKE
There's the rub.

ROB
There's the rub.

MIKE
Thanks, man. Sorry we always talk
about the same thing all the time...

ROB
Hey man, don't sweat it.

MIKE
...It's just that you've been there.
Your advice really helps.

ROB
No problem.

MIKE
Rob, I just want you to know, you're
the only one I can talk to about
her.

ROB
Thanks. Thanks, man.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Close up on answering machine. Mike pushes the button.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Hello, you have five messages.

Mike's eyes light up. He paces in anticipation as the tape
rewinds.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(male voice)
Hey, baby. It's Trent. I hope you're
feeling better about your old
girlfriend. I hope my advice helped...

Mike fast-forwards to next message.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Skipping message.
(male voice)
Whatsup, Mike. If you want to talk
some more about Michelle...
(synthesized voice)
Skipping message.
(female voice)
Mike, it's Chris. Feeling better yet
about...?
(synthesized voice)
Skipping message.

Tension grows with every inch of spooling tape. Did she leave
a message?

ANSWERING MACHINE
(female voice)
Hi, Mike. Did she call yet? If she
didn't then she doesn't deserve...
(synthesized voice)
Skipping message.

The last one. It's a long shot, but he's got the faith.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(elderly female voice)
Michael, this is Grandma. I want to
know if you got the part on that
television program. I told the whole
family and they're very excited to
know if...
(synthesized voice)
Skipping message. End of final
message.

MIKE
(lighting a cigarette,
defeated)
Shit.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
You have to put things in perspective.

MIKE
(unfazed by the
sentient appliance)
I know, I know.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
You've been through worse.

MIKE
You're right. I know.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Ever since I've known you.

MIKE
I don't know about that.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Moving here from New York was much
more of an adjustment than this.

MIKE
It didn't feel that way.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
That's because it was a challenge.
You has control over you're situation.
It was hard, but you rose to it.

MIKE
Okay. I'll think about that. Bye.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
You really should. Life, after all,
is really just a series of
challenges...

MIKE
(growing irate)
Enough. I've got to use the phone.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Are you calling Her?

MIKE
No. Stop, come on.

The LED goes black as the machine beeps off. Mike picks up
the phone and hits autodial.

Machine beeps off. Phone rings again, then is answered.

TRENT
(over phone)
Hello?

MIKE
S'up Trent?

TRENT
Lemme get off the other line, baby.

We hear the clicks of call-waiting-hold limbo. The silence
is interrupted.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice
over phone)
You should call your Grandmother.

MIKE
Shuddup.

TRENT
(returning to line)
That was Sue. We got two parties
tonight. One's for a modeling agency.

MIKE
I don't know...

TRENT
Listen to me, baby, there are going
to be beautiful babies there.

MIKE
Trent, I don't feel like going out
tonight. I got shit to do tomorrow...

TRENT
Listen to you. I got an audition for
a pilot at nine and I'm going. You
gotta get out with some beautiful
babies. You can't sit home thinking
about her.

MIKE
I don't know...

TRENT
I don't know, I don't know -- listen
to you. We're gonna have fun tonight.
We gotta get you out of that stuffy
apartment.

MIKE
We're gonna spend half the night
driving around the Hills looking for
this party and then leaving cause it
sucks, then we're gonna look for
this other party you heard about.
But, Trent, all the parties and bars,
they all suck. I spend half the night
trying to talk to some girl who's
eyes are darting around to see if
there's someone else she should be
talking to. And it's like I'm supposed
to be all happy cause she's wearing
a backpack. Half of them are nasty
skanks who wouldn't be shit if they
weren't surrounded by a bunch of
drunken horny assholes. I'm not gonna
be one of those assholes. It's fucking
depressing. Some skank who isn't
half the woman my girlfriend is is
gonna front me? It makes me want to
puke.

TRENT
(beat)
You got it bad, baby. You need Vegas.

MIKE
What are you talking about? Vegas?

TRENT
VEGAS.

MIKE
What Vegas?

TRENT
We're going to Vegas.

MIKE
When?

TRENT
Tonight, baby.

MIKE
You're crazy.

TRENT
I'll pick you up in a half an hour.

MIKE
I'm not going to Vegas.

TRENT
Shut up -- yes you are. Now listen
to Tee. We'll stop at a cash machine
on the way.

A long thoughtful pause.

MIKE
I can't lose more than a hundred.

TRENT
Just bring your card. Half an hour.

MIKE
Wait.

TRENT
What?

MIKE
What are you wearing? I mean, we
should wear suits.

TRENT
Oh... Now Mikey wants to be a high
roller.

MIKE
No, seriously, if you're dressed
nice and you act like you gamble a
lot, they give you free shit.

TRENT
Okay Bugsy. Twenty minutes.

MIKE
Wear a suit, I'm telling you it works.

TRENT
Be downstairs. You're beautiful.

CUT TO:

EXT. MIKE'S BUILDING - FRANKLIN AVENUE - NIGHT

Mike is dressed to the nines in classic vintage threads.
He's trying to look at ease as he straightens his cuff links.
He approaches Trent who suavely leans against his worn down
ride. He's a tall, slim, good-looking cat. His sharkskin
suit hangs well on his lanky frame as it tapers to his ankles.
Sinatra's "Come Fly With Me" on the tape deck adds an elegance
to the scene. They exchange an impish grin and depart without
saying a word. Maybe this isn't such a bad idea.

CUT TO:

INT. TRENT'S CAR - DETAIL SHOT - SPEEDOMETER - NIGHT

The NEEDLE IS PINNED. The gauges are blurred by the vibration
of the poorly tuned engine. The SHOT WIDENS to reveal that
the "Oil" and "Service" dummy lights are both illuminated,
causing an eerie red glow onto TRENT's white knuckles.

EXT. DESERT ROAD - NIGHT

Trent's car is red-lined. The SWINGERS are Vegas bound. Do
not pass go.

MATCH CUT TO:

INT. TRENT'S CAR - NIGHT

MIKE
(counting bills)
I took out three hundred, but I'm
only gonna bet with one. I figure if
we buy a lot of chips, the pit boss
will see and they'll comp us all
sorts of shit, then we trade back
the chips at the end of the night.
You gotta be cool though.

TRENT
I'm cool, baby. They're gonna give
Daddy a room, some breakfast, maybe
Bennett's singing.

MIKE
I'm serious. This is how you do it.
I'm telling you.

TRENT
I know. Daddy's gonna get the Rainman
suite. Vegas, baby. We're going to
Vegas!

MIKE
Vegas! You think we'll get there by
midnight?

TRENT
Baby, we're gonna be up by five hundy
by midnight. Vegas, baby!

MIKE
Vegas!

Mike twists up the Chairman of the Board as we...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. TRENT'S CAR - HOURS LATER

The two swingers are starting to fray around the edges but
are unwilling to admit it to each other or themselves. Frank
has been replaced by talk radio.

TRENT
Vegas, baby!

MIKE
Vegas!

The needle is still buried.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. TRENT'S CAR - MANY HOURS LATER

Sleep deprivation and desert static radio.

TRENT
Vegas.

MIKE
Vegas.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. TRENT'S CAR - LATER THAT NIGHT

Mike is sleeping in the passenger seat.

TRENT
Wake up, baby.

MIKE
(stirring)
Whu?

TRENT
Look at it, baby. Vegas, baby!

Trent points out a mountain range. It is now the only thing
separating them from their destination. The surreal glow of
the desert sky is accentuated by the loud slashing of the
cobalt and ruby lasers emanating from a source masked by the
craggy peaks. Mike slowly stirs from his slumber. He is
transfixed by this affrontation of nature. It is his first
glimpse of the city without God.

MIKE
(in reverie)
Vegas.

CUT TO:

EXT. VEGAS STRIP - NIGHT

The shrill cry of Basie's fat brass section heralds the
arrival of the young swingers. Their eyes drink every watt
of golden light as Sinatra's crooning urges them on.

Mike has either had enough sleep or so little that it no
longer matters. Either way, there's no turning back.

They roll up to a casino valet. TILT UP to a skull and
crossbones which looms overhead.

CUT TO:

INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - NIGHT

The two guys walk and talk down a fluorescent hallway. It is
well past midnight and the only patrons at this hour are
tourists too drunk to sleep and compulsive gamblers who snuck
out of their rooms without waking their wives.

It is a weeknight and it is beginning to become painfully
obvious that our boys are overdressed.

The decor is nautical plaster. Castings of bearded men with
primitive prosthesis clutching daggers between their teeth
are everywhere.

All of ye olde promenade shoppes are closed.

MIKE
(the first budding of
crankiness)
Pirates of the fucking Caribbean.

TRENT
This is the hot new place, besides,
you love pirates. Tell me Mikey
doesn't love pirates.

MIKE
This is fuckin' post-pubescent
Disneyland.

TRENT
You gotta love the pirates, baby.
The pirates are money.

The corridor empties into the equally kitch CASINO.

MIKE
This place is dead. I thought this
was the city that never sleeps.

TRENT
That's New York, baby. You should
know that. Look at the waitresses.
I'm gonna get me a peg-leg baby.

MIKE
They're all skanks.

TRENT
Baby, there are beautiful babies
here.

MIKE
Tee, the beautiful babies don't work
Wednesdays midnight to six. This is
the skank shift.

TRENT
What are you talking about? Look at
all the honeys.

Trent contorts his face at a cute WAITRESS passing by with a
tray of drinks.

TRENT
Arrrrg!

The waitress cracks a smile as she crosses away. Mike is
visibly embarrassed.

MIKE
Cut that shit out.

TRENT
She smiled baby.

MIKE
That's not cool.

TRENT
Did she, or did she not smile?

MIKE
It doesn't matter...

TRENT
I'm telling you, they love that shit.

MIKE
You're gonna screw up our plan.

TRENT
We're gonna get laid, baby.

MIKE
First let's see what happens if we
play it cool.

TRENT
What? You think she's gonna tell her
pit-boss on us?

MIKE
Don't make fun, I think we can get
some free shit if we don't fuck
around.

TRENT
Who's fucking around? I'm not making
fun. Let's do it, baby.

MIKE
The trick is to look like you don't
need it, then they give you shit for
free.

TRENT
Well, you look money, baby. We both
look money.

Mike points to a semi-curtained, semi-roped-off area near
the baccarat tables. The clientele is classier, but they're
still obviously overdressed.

MIKE
(pointing)
That's where we make our scene.

TRENT
You think they're watching?

MIKE
Oh, they're watching all right.
They're watching.

CUT TO:

INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - THE CLASSY SECTION - NIGHT

Mike is at a blackjack table with Trent at his side. The
game has paused to observe the newcomers as Mike draws a
billfold out of his breast pocket. They're pulling it off
with only slightly noticeable effort.

MIKE
I don't know, I guess I'll start
with three hundred in, uh, blacks.

Mike tries to hand the DEALER a handful of twenties after
counting them twice.

DEALER
On the table.

MIKE
Sorry?

DEALER
You have to lay it on the table.

MIKE
Uh, I don't want to bet it all.

The other players grow impatient.

DEALER
You're not allowed to hand me money,
sir. You'll have to lay it on the
table if you want me to change it.

MIKE
(hastily laying down
the bills)
Oh... right.

The dealer lays out the bills such that the amount is visible
to the camera encased in the black glass globe overhead.
Trent and Mike look up at it open-mouthed like turkeys in
the rain.

DEALER
Blacks?

Mike's attention is recaptured by the dealer, but Trent
continues trying to peer through the smoked glass.

MIKE
Huh?

DEALER
You want this in black chips.

MIKE
Sure, that'll be fine.

The dealer chirps out an unintelligible formality and the
PIT BOSS chirps the response. Trent's focus whips away from
the camera as both he and Mike stare at the pit boss ten
feet away. The dealer plunks down the measly THREE CHIPS
which represent Mike's entire cash reserve. Not quite the
effect he had hoped for.

The swingers stare at the chips. The players stare at the
swingers. The dealer stares at the pit boss.

MIKE
Do you have anything smaller?

DEALER
Yes, but I'm afraid this table has a
hundred-dollar-minimum bet. Perhaps
you'd be more comfortable at one of
our lower stakes tables.

The dealer indicates a FIVE-DOLLAR TABLE across the room
where an Hispanic woman deals to a BLUEHAIR, a BIKER, and a
COUPLE in matching Siegfried and Roy T-shirts.

The swingers look back to the dealer who is now flanked by
the pit boss.

The tense silence is broken by...

WAITRESS
Drinks?
(then to Trent)
How about you, Cap'n?

Trent looks over to see that it's the same WAITRESS who
flashed him a smile earlier. At first he begins to smile,
then, remembering that he is locked in a high stakes battle
of wills, subtly shakes her off. She smirks and starts to
leave until she is interrupted by Mike holding up a finger.
It's a balsy move, but everyone's watching. The kid's going
for broke.

MIKE
(to the waitress, but
never breaking eye
contact with the
dealer)
I'll have a vodka martini, straight
up, shaken not stirred, very dry.

Smooth. Trent is impressed, but masks his pride.

WAITRESS
(under her breath
cynically as she
writes it down)
One "James Bond".

Ow. She exits.

MIKE
(regaining composure)
No. Blacks will be fine.

Mike throws a chip in the circle. Trent is shocked. That's a
hundred bucks. Mike and Trent share a look. The dealer and
the pit boss exchange glances. Bets are all down and the
cards are meticulously dealt.

The dealer has a two showing. Mike has been dealt a five and
a six -- eleven.

TRENT
(hushed tones)
Double down.

MIKE
(even husheder)
What?!?

TRENT
Double down, baby. You gotta double
down on an eleven.

MIKE
I know, but...

TRENT
You gotta do it.

MIKE
...but that's two hundred dollars.
This is blood money...

TRENT
If we don't look like we know what
we're doing, then we may as well...

Everyone's waiting for them.

MIKE
I know.

The dealer, the pit boss, and all the players look on as
Mike drops ANOTHER BLACK CHIP in the circle with a barely
audible, yet deafening, thud.

MIKE
(with all the
nonchalance he can
muster)
Double down.

A bead of sweat.

The sharp snap of a dealt card.

It's a seven. Eighteen.

Disappointment twists their faces.

Finally the dealer flips over his card.

It's a king! Twelve. Here comes the bust...

Flick -- four. Sixteen! Here comes the bust...

Flick -- five. Twenty one. Groans all around, except for the
swingers who watch their chips slide away in silence.

Mike breaks the spell with a plucky smile from the pit of
his stomach.

MIKE
(to the pit boss)
Sure could use some dinner about
now.

SMASH CUT TO:

Trent and Mike are wedged between the BLUEHAIR and the BIKER
At the FIVE DOLLAR TABLE. They share a pile of red chips.

TRENT
I'm telling you, baby, you always
double down on an eleven.

MIKE
Yeah? Well obviously not always!

TRENT
Always, baby.

MIKE
I'm just saying, not in this
particular case.

TRENT
Always.

MIKE
But I lost! How can you say always?!?

In the meantime, the Bluehair has been dealt an eleven. This
captures the swinger's attention.

BLUEHAIR
Hit.

Four. Fifteen all together.

BLUEHAIR
Oh... I don't know... Hit.

Two. Seventeen. Dealer has a seven showing.

BLUEHAIR
What the hell -- hit.

Four! Twenty one.

DEALER
(with a warm smile)
Twenty one.

Polite applause from around the table which the Bluehair
humbly waves off. Mike looks at Trent. Daggers. Trent shrugs.

A different PIT BOSS approaches.

PIT BOSS
Would you care for some breakfast,
ma'am?

BLUEHAIR
Well...? No, I shouldn't. Maybe later.
Thank you, though.

MIKE
(to Trent, under his
breath)
I'm gonna fuckinkillyou.

CUT TO:

INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - CASHIER'S WINDOW - NIGHT

Mike is presented a stack of twenties by the CASHIER, who
counts them out. Trent looks on.

CASHIER
...eighty... one hundred... one
hundred and twenty dollars. We hope
to see you back on the high seas
soon.
(polite smile)

Mike throws her a disgusted look, then turns to go. Trent
struggles to cheer him up.

TRENT
What's that? One twenty? You're up
twenty bucks, baby.

Mike throws him a disgusted glare.

TRENT
...Well, you know, not counting the
first table.

MIKE
Thanks for clarifying that.

TRENT
Hey, man, I'm down too, you know.

MIKE
Yea, how much?

TRENT
I don't know, what? Thirty, Forty
maybe.

MIKE
Don't give me that shit. You know
exactly how much you lost. What'd
you drop?

TRENT
Twenty... but I was down at least
fifty. I'm sorry, I got hot at the
crap table.

MIKE
You won. There's nothing to be sorry
about. You're a winner. I'm the fuckin
loser. I should be sorry.

TRENT
Baby, don't talk like that, baby.

MIKE
Let's just leave.

TRENT
Baby, you're money. You're the big
winner.

MIKE
Let's go.

TRENT
(condescending)
Who's the big winner?

Mike looks away, shaking his head in disgust.

TRENT
(lifting Mike's
reluctant hand from
the wrist like a
boxing champ)
Mikey's the big winner.

MIKE
(shaking his head to
hide a smirk)
What an asshole.

TRENT
Okay, Tee's the asshole, but Mikey's
the big winner.

The same WAITRESS from before approaches the swingers as
they are about to leave.

WAITRESS
There you two are. I walked around
for an hour with that stupid martini
on my tray.

MIKE
Sorry. We got knocked out pretty
quickly.

CHRISTY
(sarcasm?)
A couple of high rollers like you?

MIKE
Could you believe it?

CHRISTY
Wait here, I'll get you that martini.

MIKE
Nah, I didn't really want it anyway.
I just wanted to order it.

CHRISTY
Can I get you something else? I mean,
you shouldn't leave without getting
something for free.

MIKE
No thanks. Why ruin a perfect night.

TRENT
(condescending)
Bring a James Bond for me and my boy
Mikey, and if you tell the bartender
to go easy on the water...
(holds up a half-dollar)
...this Kennedy has your name on it.
Now run along, I'm timing you.

The waitress smiles in spite of herself, shakes her head,
and walks away.

MIKE
What an asshole.

TRENT
That was money. Tell me that wasn't
money.

MIKE
That was so demeaning...

TRENT
She smiled, baby.

MIKE
I can't believe what an asshole you
are.

TRENT
Did she, or did she not smile.

MIKE
She was smiling at what an asshole
you are.

TRENT
She was smiling at how money I am,
baby.

MIKE
Let's go. I'm not paying for a room,
and if we don't leave now we'll never
make it.

TRENT
Leave? The honey-baby's bringing us
some cocktails.

MIKE
What are you, nuts? You think she's
coming back?

TRENT
I know she's coming back.

MIKE
I don't think so.

TRENT
Baby, did you hear her? "You shouldn't
leave without getting something for
free." She wants to party, baby.

MIKE
You think so?

TRENT
You gotta give Tee one thing. He's
good with the ladies.

MIKE
I'm too tired for this. Let's just
go.

TRENT
Baby, this is what we came for. We
met a beautiful baby and she likes
you.

MIKE
She likes you.

TRENT
Whatever. We'll see. Daddy's gonna
get her to bring a friend. We'll
both get one. I don't care if I'm
with her or one of her beautiful
baby friends.

MIKE
I don't know...

TRENT
You gotta get that girl out of your
head. It's time to move on. You're a
stylish, successful, good looking
cat. The ladies want to love you,
you just gotta let them.

MIKE
That's bullshit.

TRENT
It's not. You're money. Any of these
ladies would be lucky to pull a cat
like you.

MIKE
It's just that I've been out of the
game so long. Trent, I was with her
for six years. That's before AIDS.
I'm scared. I don't know how to talk
to them, I don't know...

TRENT
You can't think like that, baby.
It's hard, I know. I've been there.
Not for six years, but I know. You
just gotta get back out there.

MIKE
It's just tough, after sleeping with
someone you love for so long, to be
with someone new... who doesn't know
what I like... and you gotta wear a
jimmy...

TRENT
...gotta...

MIKE
...and then I'm struggling to impress
some chick who's not half as classy
as my girlfriend, who I'm not even
really attracted to...

TRENT
Oh fuck that. You don't have to try
and impress anyone. You think I give
a shit? You think I sweat that skanky
whore waitress...

Tee is interrupted by the WAITRESS who, thank God, barely
missed his comment.

TRENT
(recovering, looking
at watch)
...One fifty-nine, Two minutes.

WAITRESS
Two vodka martinis, straight up,
shaken not stirred, very dry, easy
on the water.

TRENT
Beautiful. What time are you off...
(reads nameplate)
...Christy?

WAITRESS
Six.

Mike can't believe it. Tee is just making it happen.

TRENT
Call a friend and have her meet the
three of us at the Landlubber Lounge
at 6:01.
(Trent throws the
half-dollar on her
tray)

SMASH CUT TO:

INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - COFFEE SHOP - SAME NIGHT

Trent and Mike are looking at menus. They're smoking at the
table because the can.

MIKE
That was so fuckin' money. It was
like that "Jedi mind" shit.

TRENT
That's what I'm telling you, baby.
The babies love that stuff. They
don't want all that sensitive shit.
You start talking to them about puppy
dogs and ice cream. They know what
you want. What do you think? You
think they don't?

MIKE
I know. I know.

TRENT
They know what you want, believe me.
Pretending is just a waste of time.
You're gonna take them there
eventually anyway. Don't apologize
for it.

MIKE
I'm just trying to be a gentleman,
show some respect...

TRENT
Respect, my ass. They respect honesty.
You see how they dress when they go
out? They want to be noticed. You're
just showing them it's working. You
gotta get off this respect kick,
baby. There ain't nothing wrong with
letting them now that you're money
and that you want to party.

The COFFEE SHOP WAITRESS approaches the table. She's cute,
but not nearly as hot as Christy.

WAITRESS
Are you ready to order?

MIKE
Coffee...
(points to Trent, who
nods)
Two coffees. It says "Breakfast Any
Time", right?

WAITRESS
That's right.

MIKE
I'll have "pancakes in the Age of
Enlightenment".

It goes over like a lead balloon.

WAITRESS
And you?

TRENT
I'll have the Blackbeard over easy.

WAITRESS
I'll be back with the coffee.

She takes the menus and goes.

TRENT
(genuinely)
Nice, baby.

MIKE
I should've said Renaissance, right?
It went over her head.

TRENT
Baby, you did fine.

MIKE
(disgusted with himself)
"Age of Enlightenment". Shit. Like
some waitress in a Las Vegas coffee
shop is going to get an obscure French
philosophical reference. How
demeaning. I may as well have just
said "Let me jump your ignorant
bones."...

TRENT
...Baby...

MIKE
...It's just, I thought "Renaissance"
was too Excaliber, it's the wrong
casino. She would've gotten it,
though...

TRENT
You did fine. Don't sweat her. We're
meeting our honeys soon. You know
Christy's friend is going to be money.

MIKE
I hope so.
(checks watch)
We gotta go soon.

TRENT
Baby, relax. It's just down the hall.
She's gotta change... we'll be fine.

MIKE
We didn't do so bad after all.

TRENT
Baby, we're money.

Mike tries to catch the attention of their waitress, who is
passing with a huge platter containing a BREAKFAST BANQUET.

MIKE
Excuse me. We're in a bit of a hurry.

WAITRESS
Hang on, Voltaire.

She passes their table and sets the ENTIRE FEAST in front of
the BLUEHAIR from the casino who sits alone.

BLUEHAIR
I said two lox platters. This isn't
thirty dollars worth of food. I have
a thirty dollar voucher. This isn't
my first time in Vegas, you know.

CUT TO:

INT. TREASURE ISLAND CASINO - LANDLUBBER LOUNGE - SAME NIGHT

Christy is at the bar wearing acid-washed jeans with a
matching denim top. She's sexy in a pathetic mid-eighties
sort of way. She's sitting next to a pretty brunette, LISA,
dressed in a similar fashion.

There is something bizarre about her appearance. Her hair is
tied into long pig-tails with powder blue ribbons. Her makeup
job is almost theatrical, with bright pink/red lips. She
can't be that out of it, or can she?

The girls have already been flanked by a herd of potential
COURTIERS.

The SWINGERS saunter up to the girls in a smooth, SLOW-MOTION
SHOT.

The girls notice them.

The courtiers sense their rejection and part like the Red
Sea for the swingers in perfect slow-motion choreography.

CHRISTY
Hi, boys, we almost gave up on you.

TRENT
Oh, are we late? There are no clocks
in this town.

CHRISTY
Well, no harm done. This is Lisa.
I'm sorry, I never got your names...

MIKE
I'm Mike...
(with contempt)
and this is my friend "Doubledown
Trent".

TRENT
(working the bit)
Stop.
(then to the girls)
Ladies, don't you double down on an
eleven?

CHRISTY
Always...

LISA
No matter what... like splitting
aces.

MIKE
Whatever.

TRENT
Hello, Lisa. I'm Trent. What a lovely
makeup job.

CHRISTY
Lisa works at the MGM Grand...

LISA
(apologetically)
I'm a "Dorothy".

TRENT
(trying to sell her
to Mike)
Oh... a Dorothy.

MIKE
Well... we're not in Kansas anymore.

Another lead balloon. Uncomfortable silence.

CHRISTY
What do you guys do?

MIKE
I'm a comedian.

More uncomfortable silence.

LISA
Do you ever perform out here? I'd
love to see you.

MIKE
No...

LISA
You should. A lot of comics play
Vegas.

MIKE
Well, I'm afraid it's not that easy...

LISA
Why not?

MIKE
There are different circuits... it's
hard to explain... you wouldn't
understand...

LISA
Who's your booking agent?

MIKE
(flustered)
Oh? You know about booking agents...
I don't, uh, actually have a west
coast agent as of yet...

LISA
Well, who represents you back east?

MIKE
Actually, it's funny you... I'm
actually, uh, between...

LISA
What do you do, Trent?

TRENT
I'm a producer.

BOTH GIRLS
Wow... Oooh... Ahhh...

Mike rolls his eyes at how full of shit he is.

CHRISTY
Listen, I'm not really allowed to
drink here. We should go someplace
else. How's my place?

The swingers exchange a glance.

Beat.

TRENT & MIKE
Sounds good to me... Fine... Sure

CUT TO:

EXT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - EARLY MORNING

Establishing shot of an Airstream trailer dug into the desert
on chocks. Trent's car and two El Caminos are parked out
front.

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - SAME

The foursome, now somewhat more intimate, sit huddled around
the fold-out table.

They've been drinking whiskey and long-neck Buds, judging by
the recyclables.

The pairings seems to be Trent/Christy, Mike/Lisa.

The cramped compartment is filled with secondary smoke and
laughter.

TRENT
No... no... The worst was when I
went in for this After-School special
and I'm sitting in the waiting room
with all these little kids. I see
they're all signed in for the same
role as me...

CHRISTY
They were auditioning for the same
role as you?

TRENT
Wait... Wait... Listen... So, I check
the time and place. I'm where I'm
supposed to be. I call my agent...
She says they asked for me
specifically...

MIKE
What was the part?

TRENT
Oh... "I love you... I can't believe
you're doing this... Drugs are bad..."
Whatever. After-School bullshit. The
role is Brother.

MIKE
"Big Brother", "Little Brother"?

TRENT
Wait... Wait... Just "Brother". So I
go in. "Hello... Hi... We loved your
guest spot on Baywatch... blah blah
blah..." Whatever. So, I start to
read, and, Mikey, I was money. I
prepared for a week. It's a starring
role. I'm crying... The casting
director, she starts crying...

MIKE
No!

TRENT
Yes!

LISA
Oh my God.

CHRISTY
Did you get it?

TRENT
Wait... She's crying. I finish. I
hold up my finger like "Wait a
second". They sit in silence for,
like, at least five minutes. I look
up and they all start clapping, and
now they're all crying. Even the
camera guy.

MIKE
No! Not the camera guy!

TRENT
I'm telling you!

LISA
So what happened?

TRENT
So, I swear to God this is exactly
what he said. The producer says to
me... now he's still crying... he
says to me that I was great, that
that was exactly what they were
looking for...

MIKE
...So give me the fuckin part...

TRENT
Right?... that I nailed it...
Whatever. Then he says it's just
that I'm a little old. I'm like "How
old is the Brother?". He's like, he
says this with a straight face, I
swear to God, he says "Eleven."

MIKE
So, what'd you say to him? "Double
down."?

They all crack up even more.

TRENT
It's like, you looked at my tape.
You saw my picture. Why did you call
me in? You knew I was twenty-four.

CHRISTY
What an asshole.

MIKE
I believe it.

The room dies down. The girls settle into the arms of their
men. There's a lot of body language and pheromones, but not
a lot of words.

CHRISTY
How rude of me. I haven't given you
the tour.

She gets up and leads Trent into the sleeping compartment to
the rear. The door slaps shut.

Mike and Lisa, in all her made-up glory, look into each others
eyes.

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - SLEEPING COMPARTMENT - SAME

Trent is already at work. He's smooth. A cascade of stuffed
animals tumble off the bed with every thrust. Clothes start
to peel off.

Trent takes a breather. He takes a step to the door.

TRENT
Let me just check on my boy.

CHRISTY
Don't worry. He's in good hands.

Trent cracks the door and peers through. The light is dim,
but he can make out that they're starting to neck.

He closes the door, satisfied.

CHRISTY
(coyly)
What a good friend. I can use a friend
like you.
(she beckons him back
to bed)

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - FRONT ROOM - SAME

What seemed like necking is actually Lisa and Mike huddled
tight having an intimate conversation.

LISA
(reassuring)
I'm sure she'll call. Six years is a
long time. You don't just break it
off cleanly after six years.

MIKE
I know, but she did. She's with
someone else now...

LISA
Already? You poor thing. It won't
last.

MIKE
Why not?

LISA
It's a rebound.

MIKE
We were a rebound, and we lasted six
years.

LISA
Yeah, but how long was the
relationship she was rebounding from?

MIKE
Six years.

Beat.

MIKE
Can I check my messages? I have a
calling card.

LISA
Sure, I guess. The phone's in the
back.

Mike gets up and approaches the door.

MIKE
Sorry, it's just that...

LISA
I understand.

Mike lightly knocks on the door.

MIKE
Trent...
(knock knock)
Tee.

The door cracks.

MIKE
Sorry, man, I need...

Trent pokes a CONDOM through the door.

MIKE
No, man. I need to use the phone.

TRENT
What?

MIKE
I gotta use the phone.

TRENT
Baby, you'll check them tomorrow.

MIKE
Please, Tee. I have to use the phone.
Sorry, man.

TRENT
Hold on.

The door closes.

MIKE
(to Lisa)
I hope I'm not interrupting anything.
They weren't in there that long.

Lisa reassuringly shakes her head.

Beat.

Christy walks out wearing only Trent's sharkskin jacket as a
robe.

Trent follows with a towel wrapped around his waist.

Trent glares at Mike as they pass. Daggers.

MIKE
(apologizing to Christy
as she exits)
I've got a calling card, there's no
charge to your phone.

CUT TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - SLEEPING COMPARTMENT - SAME

Mike dials.

BACK TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - FRONT ROOM - SAME

Half naked Trent and Christy sit with fully clothed Lisa.

CHRISTY
(to Lisa)
The poor thing. Six years?

LISA
...And she's with someone else.

CHRISTY
The poor thing. I'll make some coffee.

Trent is not happy.

BACK TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - SLEEPING COMPARTMENT - SAME

Mike is on the phone.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
She didn't call.

Disappointment pulls at Mike's brow.

BACK TO:

INT. CHRISTY'S TRAILER - FRONT ROOM - SAME

The girls clean up the bottles and ashtrays. The coffee is
brewing. The shades are up. It's officially morning.

Trent's chin is in his hand. He radiates the blue tinge of
glandular congestion. He'll have no part of any of this.

CHRISTY
He's so sweet. He really said that?

LISA
I believe it too. He really just
wants her to be happy.

CHRISTY
He is so sweet.

Mike enters.

The girls immediately stop their chatter and look at him in
anticipation.

Mike shakes his head "no".

The girls walk to embrace him in consolation.

BOTH GIRLS
Awwww.

Trent just shakes his head. He'll have no part of any of
this.

CUT TO:

EXT. DESERT ROAD - DAY

Establishing shot of Trent's car heading back to L.A. on the
northbound I-15. The speeding car is dwarfed by the expansive
badlands.

EXT. TRENT'S CAR - DESERT ROAD - SAME

MIKE
She asked me what I was thinking
about? What should I have done? Lie?

TRENT
You didn't have to get into it, baby.

MIKE
Sorry about interrupting...

TRENT
Don't worry about me, baby. I just
wanted you to have a good time.

MIKE
Christy was nice...

TRENT
I didn't even like her, to be honest.

MIKE
She was hot.

TRENT
She really didn't do it for me, baby.
How'd you like Dorothy?

MIKE
I don't know. The whole Judy Garland
thing kind of turned me on. Does
that makes me some kind of fag?

TRENT
No, baby. You're money.

MIKE
She didn't like me, anyway.

TRENT
She thought you were money.

MIKE
I don't think so.

TRENT
I heard them talking. They both
thought you were money.

MIKE
Yeah, a good friend.

TRENT
Baby, you take yourself out of the
game. You start talking about puppy
dogs and ice cream, of course it's
gonna be on the friend tip.

MIKE
I just don't think she liked me in
that way.

TRENT
Baby, you're so money you don't even
know it.

MIKE
Tee, girls don't go for me the way
they go for you.

TRENT
Michelle went for you, right.

MIKE
That was different.

TRENT
How?

MIKE
I was younger... It was college. You
didn't go to college, you don't know
what it's like. You screw chicks you
have no business being with. They're
young, they don't know any better.

TRENT
That's just plain silly. Your self-
esteem is just low because she's
with someone else. But thinking about
it and talking about it all the time
is bad. It's no good, man. You gotta
get out there. The ladies want to
love you, baby.

MIKE
I just need some time...

TRENT
Why? So you can beat yourself up?
Sitting around in that stuffy
apartment. It's just plain bad for
you, man. It's depressing. You've
come so far. Remember the first week?
After she told you? You couldn't
even eat.

MIKE
Don't remind me.

TRENT
You just sat around drinking orange
juice. Now look at you. Look how far
you've come in just a few months.
You got that part in that movie...

MIKE
...a day...

TRENT
...Whatever. It's work. You're doing
what you love. What's she doing?

MIKE
Selling scrap metal.

TRENT
(smiles)
See? And what does this guy she's
with do?

MIKE
He drives a carriage.

TRENT
What?!?

MIKE
(smiling)
I hear he drives a carriage around
Central Park or something.

TRENT
Please. And you're sweating him?
You're "all that" and you're sweating
some lawn jockey?

MIKE
I hear she's getting real fat.

TRENT
Baby, she's the one who should be
thinking about you. Sounds to me
like you cut loose some dead weight.
Trust me, Mikey, you're better off.

Trent cranks some Frank. "You Make Me Feel So Young".

Mike is finally, genuinely, smiling.

He turns down the music enough to talk.

MIKE
I'm gonna try. I'm really gonna try.

Trent just smiles and cranks Frank back up

EXT. DESERT ROAD - SAME

Trent's car drives off into the distance. A sign reads: "Los
Angeles - 270 miles".

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. PITCH AND PUTT GOLF COURSE - LOS FELIZ - DAY

Establishing shot of MIKE and ROB teeing off with nine irons.

Rob wears a Yale sweatshirt. Mike wears one from Queens
College. A Mets cap shades his eyes. Neither have shaved
and, odds are, neither showered. They each carry a loose
nine blade and putter as they wander to their lie.

ROB
I don't think I'm gonna take it.

MIKE
It's a gig.

ROB
I mean, I need the money.

MIKE
You're an actor. Find the Zen in the
role.

ROB
It's definitely a step back for me.

MIKE
Look, there's not much of a call for
Shakespeare in this town.

ROB
There's just something about being
"Goofy". Any other Disney character
would be fine. There's just this
stigma associated with the character.

MIKE
What do you want? You're tall.

ROB
Do you realize how hard it's going
to be to tell my parents? I still
haven't told them I didn't get the
pilot.

MIKE
You tested over a month ago. I'm
sure they figured it out by now.

ROB
It's like "Hi, Mom. I'm not going to
be starring in that sitcom and, oh
by the way, I'm Goofy. Send more
money."

They split up and both over-chip the green miserably.

CUT TO:

EXT. PUTTING GREEN - PITCH AND PUTT GOLF COURSE - SAME

Mike and Rob putt.

MIKE
Haven't you noticed I didn't mention
Michelle once today?

ROB
I didn't want to say anything.

MIKE
Why?

ROB
I don't know. It's like not talking
to a pitcher in the midst of a no
hitter.

MIKE
What? Like, you didn't want to jinx
it?

ROB
Kinda.

MIKE
I don't talk about her that much.

ROB
Oh no?

MIKE
I didn't mention her once today.

ROB
Well, until now. Tend the pin.

Mike pulls out the flag for Rob's putt. He misses.

MIKE
The only reason I mentioned her at
all is to say that I'm not going to
talk about her anymore. I thought
you'd appreciate that.

ROB
I do. Good for you, man.

MIKE
I've decided to get out there.
(re: the ball)
Go ahead. Play it out.

Rob putts the "gimme". He misses by an inch.

MIKE
I'm not making any more excuses for
myself.

Rob taps it in. He tends the pin or Mike, who misses.

ROB
Good to hear, Mikey.

Mike putts again, and misses.

MIKE
You want to hit the town tonight?

ROB
I shouldn't, Mike, it's a weeknight.

MIKE
What do you have? A Pluto call back?

ROB
Sure. Kick me when I'm down.

Mike plunks it in.

MIKE
Count 'em up.

The two of them count and recount as they re-visualize each
shot in their head. Throughout the process they count under
their breath and point to different parts of the fairway and
green.

The two of them revolve, point, and mumble for an absurdly
long amount of time until finally...

ROB
How many strokes?

MIKE
I don't know. Eight or Nine.

ROB
I'll give you an eight.
(writes score)

MIKE
What'd you get?

ROB
An eight.

MIKE
Looks like we're in a dead heat after
one hole. This is turning into quite
a rivalry.

Rob points to the far-off crowd of a dozen IRATE GOLFERS
Waiting to tee off.

ROB
You better replace the pin, Chi-Chi.
The natives look restless.

CUT TO:

INT. SUE'S APARTMENT - HOLLYWOOD BOULEVARD - EVENING

First of all, SUE is a guy, and a tough guy at that. He is
wearing an L.A. Kings home jersey. His sweater bears the
sacred number "99". Sue is lounging in front of the TV in
army surplus khaki cutoffs and untied Doc Martin boots.

Sue brushes back a shock of straight, greasy, dirty blonde
hair as not to obscure his view of the screen. His face glows
with the reflection of the SEGA HOCKEY game on the set. Sue
and TRENT are locked in a heavily contested battle of motor
reflexes. Nothing moves but their eyes, thumbs, and mouths...

SUE
Bitch... You little bitch!

TRENT
Chelios to Roenick...!

MIKE looks on. He is more captivated with the simulated
sporting event than the Clippers game on the TV across the
room.

Electric guitars blaze over the stereo.

The room, like the guys, could use a spring cleaning. Pizza
boxes, beer bottles, and full, full ashtrays. You can taste
the smoke.

SUE
You little bitch!

MIKE
Hey Sue. Gretsky's on his ass again.

TRENT
Because he's a bitch.

SUE
That's so bullshit. This is so
bullshit.

MIKE
You should play another team. The
Kings are bitches in this game.

SUE
Hey, man. I took the Kings to the
Cup.

TRENT
...against the computer.

SUE
They're a finesse team...

TRENT
They're a bitch team... SCORE!
Roenick!

SUE
Fuck!!! That is so bullshit!

MIKE
Give it up, Sue.

The PHONE RINGS. Sue picks it up and balances it on his
shoulder as he plays.

SUE
Hello?
(re: game)
Shit!
(back to phone)
Yeah. The elevator doesn't work.
(he lets the phone
drop. Then to Mike)
It's Pink Dot. Buzz him in -- hit
nine.

Mike picks up the phone off the matted shag carpet. He pushes
"9", listens, then hangs up.

TRENT
I wish the game still had fights so
I could bitch-slap Wayne.

MIKE
This version doesn't have fighting?

TRENT
No. Doesn't that suck?

MIKE
What? That was the best part of the
old game.

SUE
I don't know. I guess kids were
hitting each other or something.

TRENT
You could make their heads bleed,
though.

SUE
Yeah... If you hit them hard their
heads bleed all over the ice and
their legs convulse.

MIKE
No.

TRENT
Yeah.

SUE
It's kinda money, actually.

MIKE
Make someone bleed.

SUE
No, man, we're in the play-offs.

TRENT
I'll make Gretsky bleed, the little
bitch.

The DELIVERY MAN knocks on the door.

SUE
Pause it.
(Trent pauses the
game)

MIKE
Give me the money. I'll get it.

While Sue gives Mike the money, Trent UNPAUSES the game and
checks Gretsky into the boards, leaving him writhing in a
pool of red pixels.

SUE
You bitch!

Sue dives onto Trent. They wrestle a little too rambunctiously
for indoors. Trent pulls the hockey sweater over Sue's head
and starts wailing on his back.

Mike crosses. The CAMERA follows him down a shallow hallway
to the door. He unlocks it.

A delivery man of eastern-hemispheric decent is out of breath
from four flights of stairs. He hands Mike a twelve-pack of
Bud cans and three packs of Marlboro reds.

He can HEAR, but NOT SEE, the chaos ensuing in the living
room.

CUT TO:

INT. SUE'S LIVING ROOM - CONTINUOUS

Trent and Sue are flushed. They pause long enough to torment
Mike.

TRENT
(feigning homosexuality)
Is he cute? Ask him if he wants to
stay for a cocktail!

SUE
(following suit)
...Is he brown?

BACK TO:

INT. SUE'S DOORWAY - CONTINUOUS

Mike forces an apologetic smile. He is embarrassed. The
delivery man doesn't seem to understand any of this.

Mike, out of guilt, hands him a four dollar tip. This he
seems to understand. He smiles and leaves.

Mike crosses back to the main room.

MIKE
You guys are such assholes.

TRENT
(continuing the gag)
Aww... He got away?

SUE
(untangling himself
from Trent)
Gimme my reds. I've been jonesing
for an hour.

Mike throws him a pack of smokes, which he unravels with
surgical precision.

Cans of beer are tossed around and cracked.

MIKE
What time's this party tonight?

TRENT
It starts at eight...

SUE
...which means no one will get there
'til ten.

MIKE
So, what? Eleven?

TRENT & SUE
Midnight.

MIKE
I'm gonna bring and old friend who
just moved out here.

TRENT
Who? Rob?

MIKE
Yeah. You met him once.

TRENT
(approvingly)
Yeah. He's a "rounder".

SUE
What's he do?

MIKE
He's trying to be an actor.

TRENT
What a surprise...

SUE
...How novel.

CUT TO:

EXT. DARK ALLEY - OFF OF HOLLYWOOD BLVD. - SEEDY - NIGHT

MIKE and ROB walk down the dirty deserted alleyway. Mike is
wearing baggy slacks, Doc Martin shoes, and an oversized
Eisenhower-cut jacket with a vertical stripe inset. The collar
is large and pointy, but definitely not seventies. His
ensemble has more of an early sixties vibe.

Rob hasn't been at it quite as long. He's wearing worn-in
Levies over worn-in boots and, the nineties standby, an
untucked flannel.

Mike walks with purpose. He intermittently tries to pull
open locked steel doors along the alley. Rob looks confused.

ROB
So, if the party starts at eight,
why are we first going to a bar at
ten?

MIKE
To get a drink before we meet the
guys for a bite at eleven.

ROB
Oh.
(beat)
Where is this place?

MIKE
(pulling handle)
It's one of these. For some reason,
cool bars in L.A. have to be very
hard to find and have no signs out
front.

ROB
That doesn't sound too good for
business.

MIKE
(pull)
It's kinda like a speakeasy kind of
thing. It's kinda cool. It's like
you're in on some kind of secret.
You tell a chick you've been some
place, it's like bragging that you
know how to find it. The only way
you could know where a place is is
if someone who knows brought you
there. You have to have someone come
before. There is a direct line
connecting you back to the original,
unequivocally cool, club patrons.
It's kinda like Judaism...

ROB
Sounds more like Aids...

MIKE
...That's probably a more appropriate
analogy.

At this point they come upon an unmarked BLACK METAL DOOR,
which Mike successfully pulls open to reveal...

INT. "THE ROOM" - HOLLYWOOD BAR - SAME

A smoke-filled, windowless, black-walled room. There are
several round padded booths lining the walls. The place is
packed, and the funk standard "Brick House" throbs over the
P.A..

A HANDHELD SHOT as the two guys serpentine to the mirrored
bar at the far end of the room. Enshrined in its center is a
framed photograph of SINATRA smiling in approval as he
presides over the evening's activities.

Mike proudly points out the photo to Rob.

MIKE
Kinda money, huh?

ROB
(smiling)
Classy.

Mike catches the attention of a cute female BARTENDER.

MIKE
I'll get a Dewars rocks...
(looks to Rob)

ROB
Bud.

MIKE
...A Dewars on the rocks and a Bud,
please.

She goes.

ROB
I can't get over how cute the girls
in this city are.

MIKE
I know. It's like the opposite of
inbreeding. The hottest one percent
from around the world migrate to
this gene pool.

ROB
Darwinism at its best.

MIKE
I've been around here six months and
I still can't get over it.

ROB
It's like, every day I see a beautiful
woman. I'm not used to that. I'm
used to seeing a beautiful woman, I
don't know, once a week. I can't
handle it.

MIKE
Wait till summer. I swear, you can't
leave the house. It hurts. It
physically hurts.

ROB
I can't wait till I actually get to
touch one of them.

MIKE
Ah, there's the rub...

ROB
There's the rub.

The bartender serves them their drinks.

CHARLES (O.S.)
Whassup Mikey?

Mike turns to see CHARLES. A young black man with a tight
Dolomite fro. He wears a black leather blazer over a black
turtleneck. Just look up "cool" in the dictionary.

A handshake turns into a hug.

MIKE
Charles! What's up, man?

CHARLES
Oh. You know.

MIKE
Did you, um, did you get that pilot?

CHARLES
No, man. I know you didn't get it
'cause you wouldn't've asked me. It
wasn't that funny anyway...

MIKE
...piece of shit. Listen, Charles,
this is my friend Rob from Back East.

Shake.

CHARLES
Hi.

ROB
My pleasure.

MIKE
Charles and me went to network on
this pilot together.

ROB
I just tested for one...

MIKE
...yeah, a month ago.

CHARLES
Oh, I'm sorry. How'd your folks take
it?

ROB
I haven't heard an official "no"
yet.

CHARLES
You haven't told then, huh?

ROB
No.

CHARLES
I still haven't told my folks I didn't
get "Deepspace 9". You'd think
they'd'a figured it out by now, but
Mom keeps asking...

MIKE
...and boy does it hurt when they
ask.

CHARLES
I don't even tell them about anything
I'm close on anymore...

MIKE
...not until you book it...

CHARLES
...and even then...

MIKE
...you might get cut out.

ROB
I'm considering taking a job as a
"Goofy".

CHARLES
Hey, man. At least it's Disney.

MIKE
You want to come with us to a party
at the Chateau Marmont? They got a
bungalow and lots of beautiful babies.

CHARLES
(yelling over the
roar of the wall to
wall crowd)
Why not? This place is dead anyway.

CUT TO:

INT. "SWINGERS DINER" - BEVERLY BLVD. - LATER THAT NIGHT

MIKE, TRENT, SUE, CHARLES, and ROB sit around the round scotch-
plaid corner booth of the retro-hip coffee shop. All of our
boys, with the exception of Rob, are classily dressed. They
wear a lot of black, brown, and gray with a splash of gold
and maroon.

The CAMERA REVOLVES around the table in a repeating "Reservoir
Dogs" style over the shoulder 360 DEGREE PAN.

TRENT
...No, baby. I got a better one. You
gotta admit the steadycam shot in
"Goodfellas" was the money...

ROB
...through the basement of that
restaurant...

MIKE
...the Copa, in New York...

TRENT
...through the kitchen...

CHARLES
...I heard it took four days to light
for that shot...

ROB
...Four days..?

SUE
...I don't know about four days...

CHARLES
...That's what I heard...

MIKE
...Maybe. I mean you gotta hide all
the lights...

TRENT
...It looked money.

SUE
...Not as money as the shot from
Reservoir Dogs...

ROB
...Which one?

SUE
...In the beginning. When they're
walking in slow motion...

MIKE
...How can you compare them? Tarantino
totally bites everything from
Scorsese...

SUE
...He's derivative...

TRENT
...You gotta admit, it looked money...

CHARLES
.... I heard they made that whole
movie for ten grand...

ROB
...What's the big deal? Everyone
steals from everyone.

MIKE
(checking his watch)
Well, let's hit that party.

CUT TO:

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - HEADLIGHTS AND NEON - NIGHT

The five swingers walk down the boulevard in a SLO-MO SHOT
which is extremely "derivative" of the "Reservoir Dogs" credit
sequence.

The scene is choreographed to Bennett's big band arrangement
of "O SOLE MIO".

CUT TO:

EXT. CHATEAU MARMONT BUNGALOW - OUTSIDE THE PARTY - MIDNIGHT

Muffled music seeps through the door. The swingers turn the
knob and enter...

INT. THE PARTY - CHATEAU MARMONT BUNGALOW - SAME

The huge sunken living room is packed with people congealed
into circles of conversation and sipping cocktails.

EVERYTHING STOPS when they enter. The music, the
conversations, all movement, everything.

Everyone in the room STARES at them standing in the doorway.

Beat.

The music starts back up and everyone returns to their
conversations.

The swingers weave their way through the crowd to...

INT. THE BAR AREA - THE BUNGALOW KITCHEN - SAME

The swingers fix themselves drinks from an assortment of
bottles cluttering the table. The shamelessly paw at the top
shelf brands.

MIKE
Who threw this party, anyway?

SUE
Damned if I know...

TRENT
...Beats me...

CHARLES
...I came with you.

With that, the three of them peel off to work the room.

ROB
What's that guy's name? Sue?

MIKE
Sue. His dad was big Johnny Cash
fan.

ROB
Oh, like that song...

MIKE
..."A Boy Named Sue". I think that's
why he's such a bad cat.

ROB
Him?

MIKE
He's a mean dude. I've seen him smash
a guy's face into the curb. He knocked
out his teeth... blood... He was
just like Boom, Boom, Boom... fuckin
nasty shit, man. He's a nice guy
though.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - BUNGALOW - SAME

Trent and Sue are scouting some LADIES across the room. One
wears a FUNKY OVERSIZED HAT. Intermittent eye contact has
been established.

TRENT
Oh, it's on, baby...

SUE
...It's on.

BACK TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - BUNGALOW - SAME

Mike and Rob have come back into the room. They scout the
terrain.

MIKE
There are so many beautiful women
here.

ROB
It's unbelievable.

MIKE
I got to at least try once.

ROB
You're a better man than I am, Charlie
Brown.

MIKE
No, I just promised myself I'd give
it a try. I gotta get out there sooner
or later.

ROB
Go for it, man.

Mike spots a pair of beautiful BLONDES in black. They're
wearing stretch bell-bottoms and tops that expose their mid-
drifts. The seventies never looked so good.

MIKE
(indicating the ladies)
I'm going in. Will you be my wing-
man?

ROB
I'll be your winger.

They make the approach. With a great deal of effort, Mike
catches their attention...

MIKE
Good evening, ladies...

...only to be interrupted by the party STOPPING to check
another entrance.

Beat.

The party RESUMES and the blondes redirect their attention
to Mike. He is a little put-off but, God love him, he gets
back in there.

MIKE
How are you ladies doing this evening?

BLONDE
What do you drive?

MIKE
I'm sorry?

BLONDE
What kind of car do you drive?

MIKE
Oh... a Cavalier.

The blondes immediately enter back into their conversation
as if they were never approached.

Mike and Rob exchange defeated glances.

One more try.

MIKE
...It's red?

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - BUNGALOW - CONTINUOUS

Trent and Sue are trying to look like they're not paying
attention to the group of ladies they saw across the room.

TRENT
Is she looking at me, baby?

SUE
No.

TRENT
Now?

SUE
No.

TRENT
Is she looking now?

SUE
No! She's not looking at you. She
hasn't looked at you once. Will you
stop asking if... Wait, she just
looked.

TRENT
See, baby?

Mike and Rob walk up to Trent and Sue.

MIKE
How you guys doing?

TRENT
It's on.

MIKE
Which one?

TRENT
(indicated the group
of girls with a subtle
head move)
Minnie Pearl.

Mike and Rob STARE DIRECTLY at the girls like a deer in the
headlights... a big no-no.

MIKE
The one in the hat? She's cute.

Trent and Sue react with frustrated disappointment.

TRENT
What are you doing?

MIKE
What?

TRENT
You looked right at her, baby.

MIKE
She didn't notice.

SUE
Yes she did.

TRENT
Damn. Now I gotta go in early.

MIKE
I'm sorry.

TRENT
Don't sweat it, baby. This one's a
lay-up.

Trent crosses away.

SUE
How's it going for you two?

MIKE
Not well.

SUE
Rejected?

ROB
Shaqed.

Mike's P.O.V. of Trent passing near and the GIRL IN THE HAT.
He says something, smiles, and points to her hat. She laughs.

SUE
Well, just watch the T-bone and learn.

CUT TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - TRENT'S CONVERSATION - CONTINUOUS

Trent is having a sensitive one-on-one with the girl in the
hat.

GIRL IN HAT
...I've always wanted to be an
actress, at least as long as I could
remember. I went to...

Under Trent's affirmative response we hear the first haunting
TUBA PULSE of the JAWS THEME:

TRENT
(nodding in agreement)
Uhhhh... Huuuhhh.

CUT TO:

CLOSE UP of MIKE'S FACE as he looks on in HORRIFIED AWE from
afar.

BACK TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - TRENT'S CONVERSATION - CONTINUOUS

GIRL WITH CIGAR
...Then one day after class my drama
teacher, the one who directed the
play, said he thought I should...

The second TUBA PULSE accompanies Trent's sound of agreement:

TRENT
Uhhh... Huuhh.

BACK TO:

EXTREME CLOSE UP of MIKE'S HORRIFIED EYES.

BACK TO:

INT. LIVING ROOM - TRENT'S CONVERSATION - CONTINUOUS

GIRL WITH CIGAR
...I met with an agent last week and
I'm waiting to hear...

The third, and progressively faster, TUBA PULSE sounds under
Trent's response as the JAWS THEME begins to speed up and
fill out:

TRENT
Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh, Uh-Huh...

CUT TO:

Mike, Rob, and Sue look on.

SUE
Here comes the kill...

MATCH CUT TO:

The group's P.O.V. of the conversation.

The JAWS THEME reaches its violent crescendo as the girl
looks into her purse.

Trent winks to the boys. Smooth.

She comes up with a pen and writes our her phone number.

Trent crosses back as the music dies away.

Using his body as a shield so the girl can't see, but so his
boys can, he rips up and drops the number as he approaches
them.

TRENT
Was I money?

MIKE
I don't know. It was kind of a dick
move if you ask me.

TRENT
Why, baby? What'd I do wrong?

MIKE
You asked her for her number, and
then you tore it up.

TRENT
She didn't see.

MIKE
That doesn't matter.

SUE
That was pretty cold, dude.

TRENT
What was cold about it?

The door opens. The party PAUSES to look, then RESUMES.

TRENT
She offered me her number. What should
I have said? "No"? That would've
hurt her feelings. This way she feels
like the winner.

Trent smiles and waves to her across the room. She coyly
waves back and makes a "phone sign" with her hand. Trent
nods and smiles.

TRENT
Tee can't roll with that, she's
"business class".

ROB
"Business class"?

SUE
(explaining to Rob)
Big butt... you know, can't fly coach.

MIKE
I can't believe you.

Charles approaches the crew.

CHARLES
They're out of Glenlivet.

MIKE
What else is going on?

TRENT
We could hit the Dresden.

Overhead LONG SHOT of the swingers entrenched in the CROWDED
PARTY.

SUE
Yeah. This place is dead, anyway.

CUT TO:

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - OUTSIDE THE CHATEAU MARMONT - NIGHT

The swingers have left the party and are heading to their
cars. They are all parked in a row, one behind the other.
They each climb behind the wheel of their own car. They pull
out in UNISON.

They travel like a train with their bumpers ALMOST TOUCHING.

CUT TO:

EXT. HOLLYWOOD STREETS - NIGHT

SHOTS of the CAR-TRAIN driving and making turns.

"O SOLE MIO" reprise.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. THE DRESDEN - VERMONT AVE. - HOLLYWOOD - NIGHT

The car-train BREAKS UP to nose-in park behind the bar.
They all "club" their steering wheels.

CUT TO:

INT. "THE DRESDEN ROOM" - SAME

The SWINGERS lounge in a booth against the cork-paneled wall,
sipping cocktails. They watch MARTY and ELAYNE, the resident
lounge act, perform a jazz fusion cover of "Staying Alive"
on synth and upright bass. The seventies are alive and well
here, but they're starting to yellow around the edges...

The room is busy, but not packed.

The swingers have all had a few.

CHARLES
I know what you're saying, man. I
don't know what to tell you...

ROB
...I mean, does it have to be "Goofy"?
I was playing Hamlet off-Broadway
two months ago, for crying out loud...

Trent and Sue are involved in a different conversation.
They are observing two HOT GIRLS at another cocktail table.

The girls are wearing short plaid skirts with black stockings
pulled up to midthigh. It's the "catholic-school-girl-gone-
bad" look.

The girls are a little too touchy-feely with each other,
suggesting a certain sexual open-mindedness.

TRENT
It's on.

SUE
You think?

TRENT
Baby, I know it is. It's a black
diamond trail...

SUE
...double diamond...

TRENT
...but it's worth the risk. True or
false: It's worth the risk.

SUE
True.

As they get up to leave...

MIKE
God bless you guys.

They cross to the ladies.

Mike's P.O.V.

The girls seem at first cold, the receptive. Trent and Sue
join their table and share some laughs.

Mike half-heartedly looks on. He is obviously not happy with
where he stands on the bell-curve of masculinity.

Mike, looking for any kind of escape, crosses to the bar.

CUT TO:

INT. BAR - DRESDEN ROOM - SAME

Mike unsuccessfully tries to catch the attention of the middle
aged BARTENDER.

MIKE
(to himself)
I can't even get this guy to notice
me...

A cute BLONDE sitting at the bar chuckles at his comment.

Mike is at first self-conscious, then pushes ahead.

MIKE
You like laughing at the misery of
others?

BLONDE
I'm sorry, I couldn't help it. Let
me make it up to you.

She raises her finger and the bartender immediately
approaches.

BARTENDER
What can I get you?

MIKE
I'll have a Dewars on the rocks.

He goes to fix it.

MIKE
Thanks.

BLONDE
I've seen you somewhere... Where
have I seen you?

MIKE
You ever go to the Kelbo's? On Pico?

BLONDE
...maybe...

MIKE
...Monday nights? I host an open
mike...

BLONDE
You're a comedian?

MIKE
Yeah.

BLONDE
What's that like?

MIKE
(trying to bluff, not
an ounce of sarcasm)
Well, you know, it's tough. A lot of
traveling. A lot of hotels... but,
you know, it's a dream... and the
money's really good. I think I might
buy another really expensive imported
car after my next gig in Vegas...

BLONDE
(politely interrupting)
I know! Starbucks! I served you an
espresso at Starbucks.

MIKE
Are you sure? Maybe...

BLONDE
Yes! Remember? You asked me for an
application? I introduced you to the
manager?

MIKE
(trying to pull out
of the dive)
Oh, yeah... Boy, that must've been a
while ago.

BLONDE
I'd say about two weeks.

MIKE
Probably a little longer than that,
but, whatever.

BLONDE
(smiling at him)
You better pay the man.

Mike notices the bartender, who has been waiting patiently
with the drink.

MIKE
(fumbling with the
money)
Oh... Sorry.

She chuckles. He pays and throws down a two-dollar tip
apologetically.

MIKE
(tactical retreat)
Well, thank you...?

BLONDE
Nikki.

MIKE
Thank you, Nikki.

He walks away kicking himself. He is interrupted by Trent
and Sue, who both hold up cocktail napkins with scribbles.

TRENT
We got the digits, baby.

MIKE
What a surprise.

TRENT
What's wrong? I saw you talking to
that beautiful blonde baby.

SUE
She was cute.

MIKE
She didn't like me... I made a fool
of myself...

TRENT
Baby, don't talk that way, baby...

SUE
You are so money, and you don't even
know it...

TRENT
That's what I keep trying to tell
him.
(to Mike)
You're so money, you don't even
know...

MIKE
Please, don't mess with me right
now...

TRENT
We're not messing with you...

SUE
...we're not...

TRENT
You're like this big bear with claws
and fangs...

SUE
...and big fuckin' teeth...

TRENT
...and teeth... And she's like this
little bunny cowering in the corner...

SUE
...shivering...

TRENT
...And you're just looking at your
claws like "How do I kill this
bunny?"...

SUE
...You're just poking at it...

TRENT
...Yeah. You're just gently batting
it around... and the rabbit's all
scared...

SUE
...and you got big claws and fangs...

TRENT
...and fangs... and you're like "I
don't know what to do. How do I kill
this bunny?"...

SUE
...you're like a big bear.

Beat. Mike smiles.

MIKE
You're not just, like, fucking with
me?

TRENT
No, baby!

SUE
...honestly...

TRENT
...you're money...

SUE
...you're so fuckin mmmoney.

TRENT
Now go over there and get those
digits.

SUE
You're money.

TRENT
(pulling him aside,
dead serious)
Now when you talk to her, I don't
want you to be the guy in the PG-13
movie that everyone's pulling for. I
want you to be the guy in the rated
R movie who you're not sure if you
like.

Mike nods and, energized by the bombardment, crosses back to
the bar and right into the fray.

Trent and Sue rejoin the other swingers.

Swinger's P.O.V. of Mike decisively engaging her in
conversation.

She laughs.

Out comes the pen and the cocktail napkin. Bingo.

Mike crosses back to the swingers' table and, using his body
to shield Nikki's view, pretends to rip the napkin. This
breaks the guys up.

Mike sits down and, after admiring the blotchy numerals,
delicately folds the napkin and pockets it.

TRENT
See, baby. It's not that hard.

CHARLES
818?

Everyone reacts favorably to this area code.

MIKE
How long do I wait to call?

TRENT
A day.

MIKE
Tomorrow?

TRENT
No...

SUE
...Tomorrow, then a day.

TRENT
...Yeah.

MIKE
So, two days?

TRENT
Yeah. I guess you could call it that.

SUE
Definitely. Two days. That's the
industry standard...

TRENT
(to Sue. shop talk)
...I used to wait two days. Now
everyone waits two days. Three days
is kinda money now, don't you think?

SUE
...Yeah. But two's enough not to
look anxious...

TRENT
Yeah, but three days is kinda the
money...

MIKE
(interrupting
sarcastically)
Why don't I just wait three weeks
and tell her I was cleaning out my
wallet and found her number...

CHARLES
...then ask where you met her...

MIKE
Yeah, I'll tell her I don't remember
and then I'll ask what she looks
like.
(pause)
Then I'll ask if we fucked. How's
that, Tee? Is that "the money"?

The guys laugh.

TRENT
Laugh all you want, but if you call
to soon you can scare off a nice
baby who's ready to party.

SUE
Don't listen to him. You call whenever
it feels right to you.

MIKE
How long are you guys gonna wait to
call your honeys?

TRENT & SUE
Six days.

CUT TO:

EXT. THE DRESDEN - PARKING LOT - OUT BACK - NIGHT

The swingers are leaving through the back door. The doorway
is congested with another group of guys who are entering.

A BALD GUY with a goatee brushes by Sue.

SUE
Watch where you're going, asshole.

BALD GUY
What'd you say, bitch?

SUE
I said watch where you're going,
bitch!

That's it. Now they're squaring off in the empty parking
lot.

All the bald guy's boys fall in behind him. All the swingers
fall in behind Sue. The swingers are not happy with Sue at
all.

The two cliques contrast each other in every way.

The bald guys all have facial hair and multiple pierced
extremities with the odd neck-tattoo thrown in for good
measure.

Baggy denim and boots. Pot leaves and Pumas. Long, heavy key
chains. Vintage 1994 whiteboy faux-gansta. They do, however,
look big and mean next to our boys.

The early sixties style sweater jackets and blazers over
button down shirts and tapered slacks don't quite have the
same fear factor, but the boys do look classy.

The word "bitch" is growled out by the two of them a half
dozen more times until...

Sue pulls a PISTOL out of his belt.

Everyone is SCARED. Especially the swingers.

SUE
Now what, bitch? Now who's the bitch,
bitch?

The bald guys HOLD UP THEIR HANDS and slowly back up to their
ride.

BALD GUY
Hey, man. I'm the bitch. I'm your
bitch, okay? We're just gonna leave.
Okay? I'm the bitch. I'm such a bitch,
I can't even begin to tell you...

They jump in the car and SPEED AWAY.

Sue belts the gun and stands tall like Clint.

TRENT
What the fuck..?

MIKE
What an asshole. Didn't you see "Boys
in the Hood"? Now one of us is gonna
get shot.

SUE
He's a bitch. He ain't gonna do
nothing.

MIKE
You asshole.

TRENT
You dick.

SUE
What'd you want me to do? Back down?
He called me a bitch. We kept our
rep.

CHARLES
Fuck rep, I've got a callback
tomorrow.

Charles leaves.

ROB
Yeah, I gotta be up early tomorrow.

Rob leaves, shaken up.

MIKE
You asshole. Why are you carrying a
gun? What? In case someone steps to
you, Snoop Dogg?

SUE
Hey, man, you're not from here. You
don't know how it is. I grew up in
L.A...

TRENT
...Anaheim...

SUE
...Whatever. Things are different
here. It's not like New York, Mikey.

MIKE
Yeah. Here it's easier to avoid
trouble. It's not like you like in
Compton where bullets are whizzing
by your head every day. Nobody's
mugging you on no subway. In New
York the trouble finds you. Out here
you gotta go look for it...

SUE
...People get carjacked...

TRENT
...Oh, who would jack your fuckin K-
car? He's right, Sue. You don't need
no gat.

SUE
Listen. Just because I was the only
one with the balls to stand up to
them...

TRENT
...Oh yeah, like "Cypress Hill" was
gonna do anything...

MIKE
You live in such a fantasy world...

SUE
What about you, Mikey? At least I
got balls. You're always whining
about some bitch who dumped you a
year ago...

MIKE
...It was six months, and she didn't
dump...

SUE
...Whatever. You're like a whining
little woman. Big deal. You got a
fuckin' number. Whoopee! You'll fuck
it up...

TRENT
...Sue...

SUE
Have you gotten laid once since you
moved here? Did you fuck once?

TRENT
...Shut up, Sue...

SUE
I know for a fact you haven't, because
you never shut up about it. You're
like a little whiney bitch...

TRENT
Sue!

MIKE
No, Trent. He's right.

Mike walks to his car.

TRENT
Mikey!

It's too late. He's leaving.

Sue starts to open his mouth.

TRENT
Don't even talk to me.
(pause)
You asshole.

CUT TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

Mike opens the door and flicks on the lights in his sparsely
furnished single.

He drops his keys on the table and makes a bee line to the
answering machine.

He pushes the button.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
She didn't call.

Mike collapses into his futon and lights a smoke.

Beat.

He pulls out the COCKTAIL NAPKIN. He stares at the number.

He looks at the clock. 2:20 AM.

He looks at the napkin.

He thinks better of it, and puts the napkin away.

Beat.

He takes out the napkin and picks up the phone.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Don't do it, Mike.

MIKE
Shut up.

He dials.

It rings twice, then...

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)

MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike. I met you
tonight at the Dresden. I, uh, just
called to say I, uh, I'm really glad
we met and you should give me a call.
So call me tomorrow, or, like, in
two days, whatever. My number is 213-
555-4679...
(beep)

Mike hangs up.

Beat.

He dials again.

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)

MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike, again. I
just called because it sounded like
your machine might've cut me off
before I gave you my number, and
also to say sorry for calling so
late, but you were still there when
I left the Dresden, so I knew I'd
get your machine. Anyway, my number
is...
(beep)

Mike calls back right away.

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)

MIKE
213-555-4679. That's all. I just
wanted to leave my number. I don't
want you to think I'm weird, or
desperate or something...
(he regrets saying it
immediately)
...I mean, you know, we should just
hang out. That's it. No expectations.
Just, you know, hang out. Bye.
(beep)

He hangs up.

Beat.

He dials.

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leaves a message.
(beep)

MIKE
I just got out of a six-year
relationship. Okay? That should help
to explain why I'm acting so weird.
It's not you. It's me. I just wanted
to say that. Sorry.
(pause)
This is Mike.
(beep)

He dials again. There's no turning back.

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)

MIKE
Hi, Nikki. This is Mike again. Could
you just call me when you get in?
I'll be up for awhile, and I'd just
rather talk to you in person instead
of trying to squeeze it all...
(beep)

He dials yet again.

NIKKI
(recorded)
Hi. This is Nikki. Leave a message.
(beep)

MIKE
Hi, Nikki. Mike. I don't think this
is working out. I think you're great,
but maybe we should just take some
time off from each other. It's not
you, really. It's me. It's only been
six months...

NIKKI
(Live, in person.
she picks up the
line)
Mike?

MIKE
Nikki! Great! Did you just walk in,
or were you listening all along?

NIKKI
(calmly)
Don't call me ever again.

MIKE
Wow, I guess you were home...
(click)

She hung up on him.

He's frozen.

He hangs up.

Beat.

He pulls the comforter off the futon and curls up in the
corner of the room.

LONG DISSOLVE TO:

MONTAGE FLASHBACK:

The following sequence is m.o.s. over Billie Holiday's "Maybe
You'll Be There."

INT. COLLEGE CLASSROOM - QUEENS COLLEGE - DAY

YOUNGER MIKE catches his first glimpse of MICHELLE. She
doesn't see him looking at her. She is paying attention to
the lesson.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. STUDY HALL - QUEENS COLLEGE - DAY

Mike approaches Michelle for the FIRST TIME. She looks
beautiful when she looks up at him for the first time.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. FLUSHING MEADOW PARK - SPRING AFTERNOON

They're having a PICNIC with white wine, Cheese, prosciutto,
and French bread. Mike plays a ukulele.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. SHEA STADIUM - QUEENS - ESTABLISHING SHOT - DAY

CUT TO:

INT. SHEA STADIUM STANDS - SAME

Mike and Michelle sit with a lap full of food. They are
laughing about something. Mike leans in for his first deep,
passionate KISS. The crowd jumps up to cheer a Daryl
Strawberry home run which the lovers don't notice. They stay
seated, kissing, and are lost to the CAMERA in the crowd.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S BEDROOM - NEW YORK APARTMENT - NIGHT

Their first sexual experience. Mike is obviously nervous as
he lies undressed under the covers. He sporadically adjusts
his hair and strikes poses as he waits for Michelle to come
out of the bathroom. This is INTERCUT with shots of the closed
bathroom door.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREET - IN FRONT OF "RADIO CITY" - NIGHT

Mike and Michelle are Christmas shopping in the snow. It's
like a story book.

A newspaper, barely noticeable on stand in b.g., reads "VITO
CORLEONE FEARED MURDERED"

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - NEW YORK - NIGHT

Mike and Michelle lethargically lay across the couch. They
half-heartedly watch a rented video as they shovel Chinese
take-out into their bloating faces.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. LA GUARDIA AIRPORT - DAY

Mike and Michelle say good bye. They hug and cry. He boards
a plane for L.A..

FADE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - DAY

SHOT of answering machine.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(Trent's voice)
...Pick up... Pick up, Mikey... Are
you home?

He is.

He is sitting in the same corner, smoking, with a two day
beard. He is surrounded by full ashtrays and empty Tropicana
containers. Billie Holiday's "Maybe you'll Be There" draws
to a close on the C.D. player.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(Trent's voice)
...I guess you're not home. Why don't
you come out tonight, baby. We haven't
seen you for two days. We're gonna
play hockey at Sue's house til ten
thirty then we're either going to
the Lava Lounge for Sinatra night,
or the Derby for the Royal Crown. We
might also check out Swing Night at
the Viper. If we're not there we'll
be at the Three of Clubs. So come
meet up with us. We'll see you there,
gorgeous.
(beep)

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

He hasn't moved.

The PHONE RINGS.

He looks to the answering machine hopefully as it picks up
after one ring.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(Rob's voice)
Mikey...? It's Rob. Pick up, buddy.

His shoulders slack with DISAPPOINTMENT. It's not Her.

ANSWERING MACHINE
(Rob's voice)
...I'm downstairs. Buzz me in. I
know you're home. Your lights are on
and your car's here. Come on, buddy.
Open up...

Mike picks up the phone, pushes "9", and hangs up.

He lights a cigarette.

A knock at the door.

Mike opens it, and Rob walks in with a brown bag.

He surveys the scene. He's seen this before. He moves some
laundry off an armchair and sits down.

He pulls a pepperoni and a loaf of seminola out of the bag.

He hands Mike a pint of orange juice.

MIKE
Thanks, man.

ROB
No problem, buddy. You eat anything
today?

Mike shakes his head, "no".

ROB
Yesterday?

Mike shakes his head again.

ROB
You haven't been drinking, have you?

MIKE
No. Just O.J.

Rob cuts into the pepperoni with his Swiss army knife. Mike
drinks his juice.

MIKE
Sorry about what happened at the
Dresden. I had no idea...

ROB
Don't sweat it. Now I got an L.A.
gun story. You should hear the way I
tell to the guys back home. He had
an Uzi. Mike half-smiles.

Beat.

ROB
You want to talk about it?

MIKE
What's the point?

ROB
It's been two days. You should call
that girl Nikki...

Mike grabs his head in pain.

MIKE
Uuuuugh!

ROB
Oh boy.

MIKE
I'm such an asshole.

ROB
She wasn't your type anyway.

Beat.

MIKE
I think I'm gonna move Back East.

ROB
Well, that's dumb.

MIKE
What's dumb about it?

ROB
Well, you're doing so well...

MIKE
How am I doing well? I host an open
mike and I played a fuckin' bus driver
in a movie. Big fuckin' deal. I'm
with an agency that specializes in
fuckin magicians. How good am I doing?

ROB
At least you didn't get turned down
for Goofy...

MIKE
They turned you down?

ROB
They went for someone with more theme
park experience. I woulda killed for
that job.

Mike lets it sink in.

ROB
See, it's all how you look at it. If
your life sucks, then mine is God
awful. I mean, I moved out here
partially because I saw how well you
were doing. You got in the union,
you got an agent. I thought if you
could make it, maybe I could too...

MIKE
I didn't make it...

ROB
That's your problem, man. You can't
see what you've got, only what you've
lost. Those guys are right. You are
"money".

Mike smiles, then...

MIKE
(starting to cry)
Then why won't she call...?

ROB
Because you left, man. She's got her
own world to deal with in New York.
She was a sweet girl but fuck her.
You gotta move on. You gotta let go
of the past. The future is so
beautiful. Every day is so sunny out
here. It's like Manifest Destiny
man. I mean, we made it. What's past
is prologue. That which does not
kill us makes us stronger. All that
shit. You'll get over it.

MIKE
How did you get over it? I mean how
long 'til it stopped hurting?

ROB
Sometimes is still hurts. You know
how it is, man. I mean, each day you
think about it less and less. And
then one day you wake up and you
don't think of it at all, and you
almost miss that feeling. It's kinda
weird. You miss the pain because it
was part of your life for so long.
And the, boom, something reminds you
of her, and you just smile that
bittersweet smile.

We see that Mike has been GNAWING AWAY at Rob's pepperoni
and semolina as he listens intently.

MIKE
You miss the pain?

ROB
...for the same reason you miss her.
You lived with it so long.

MIKE
Wow.
(finishing the loaf)
You wanna grab a bite?

ROB
(smiling)
Sure.

He helps Mike up.

ROB
By the way, the guys back home said
she put on some weight.

MIKE
(smiling)
You always know the right thing to
say.

CUT TO:

INT. SUE'S APARTMENT - OUTSIDE THE DOOR - NIGHT

Trent opens the door. He sees Mike standing there dressed
for trouble. His face lights up.

TRENT
Mikey! Guys, Mikey's here!

GUYS (O.S.)
(from the living room)
Mikey!

Mike HEARS the sound of a hotly contested SEGA MATCH.

SUE (O.S.)
Bitch! You little bitch!

The CAMERA follows Mike and Trent into the...

INT. LIVING ROOM - SUE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Mike's JAW DROPS when he sees that Sue has been playing hockey
against the BALD GUY from the Dresden.

BALD GUY
Bitch! You bitch!

The room is filled with the BALD GUY'S CREW. They greet Mike
as they take hits off their forty ouncers.

SUE
Trent. Take over.

They do a high-speed "controller handoff."

Sue crosses to Mike.

SUE
I'm so sorry, man. You were so right.
I got rid of the gun

MIKE
What are they doing here?

SUE
We ran into them that night at
Roscoe's. Tee cleared it up, I
apologized, bought them some chicken
and waffles. They fuckin love Tee.
That boy can talk.

All the baldies howl and slap hands at something funny Tee
said.

SUE
But most important, man, I'm sorry
about what I said. I was drunk... My
adrenaline was going...

MIKE
Don't sweat it, man. I needed a kick
in the ass. We're better friends for
it.

SUE
Thanks, man.
(they hug)
I've been hating myself for the last
two days.

MIKE
Believe me, I know what that's like.
(then to Trent)
Yo, Double Down! What time are we
leaving?

TRENT
Five minutes, baby. Hey, it's been
two days. You should call Nikki and
see if she wants to meet you there.

CUT TO:

EXT. "THE DERBY" - HOLLYWOOD NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

The THREE SWINGERS are waved pass the line by the doorman in
a Scorsese-style STEADICAM SHOT which continues up the stairs
and through a curtained doorway into...

INT. "THE DERBY" - HOLLYWOOD NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

They enter the domed decco lounge and the full house parts
for them and greets them in perfect Scorsese choreography.

They pass the billiard table and the circular brass rail
bar.

The six piece swing band decked out in zoot suits wail on
stage as the crowded dance floor whirls.

The swingers eventually settle into a dark curtained-off
onstage booth.

Sue thrusts a scotch into Mike's hand.

INT. "THE DERBY" - MONTAGE - NIGHT

Montage of smoking, drinking, and carousing.

The parquet floor is packed with swinging hepsters dressed
in Hollywood's take on forties threads. The dancing is full-
blown overcrowded slam swing. The floor is full, and everyone
is damn good. This definitely ain't amateur night.

INT. BAR AREA - THE DERBY - NIGHT

Mike steps up to the bar to refill his drink. He sees a
BRUNETTE sitting at the bar.

She's cute.

Real cute.

She glows.

There's something fresh about her. She's dressed nice, but
different. She definitely is not a regular.

She throws Mike a half-smile, then looks away.

He looks away.

Should he?

He shakes his head to himself. No.

Beat.

He looks over at her again.

Mike's P.O.V. of a WHITE BUNNY sitting on the bar stool.

He smiles, shrugs, and CROSSES TO HER.

When he gets to her she has reverted back to human form.

MIKE
Hi.

BRUNETTE
Hi.

MIKE
I'm Mike.

BRUNETTE
Hi, Mike. I'm Lorraine.

MIKE
Like the quiche?

BRUNETTE
(smiles)
Yes. Like the quiche.

MIKE
I like quiche.

BRUNETTE
I thought real men don't like quiche.

MIKE
My reputation seems to have preceded
me.

BRUNETTE
Why? You're not a real man?

MIKE
Not lately.

MATCH CUT TO:

Trent points the conversation out to Sue from across the
room.

Trent and Sue's P.O.V. of Mike and Lorraine having an
unforced, enjoyable conversation.

TRENT
It's on...

SUE
...it's on.

MATCH CUT TO:

BACK IN THE TRENCHES:

BRUNETTE
...so I thought, what the hell, they
make movies in L.A., not in Michigan,
so I moved here.

MIKE
Just like that?

BRUNETTE
Well, it wasn't the simple, but yeah.

MIKE
How was it hard?

BRUNETTE
Well, I left someone very special
behind.

MIKE
Tell me about it...

BRUNETTE
You too?

MIKE
Yeah.

BRUNETTE
(lights up)
I thought I was going to die.

MIKE
It's been six months and I'm just
starting to get over it.

BRUNETTE
Oh, God. That's two more than me.
Tell me it gets better.

MIKE
(smiles)
It does.

BRUNETTE
How?

MIKE
Well, it still sucks, but you start
to see that there are advantages to
being single.

BRUNETTE
(coyly)
Like what?

MIKE
What what? What advantages?

LORRAINE
You said there are advantages to
being single. I want to know what
the advantages are.

MIKE
(playing along)
Well... You can talk to a beautiful
woman at a bar without worrying if
anyone's watching you.

CUT TO:

Trent and Sue are watching from across the room.

TRENT
It's on.

SUE
...it's definitely on.

BACK TO:

BRUNETTE
What else?

MIKE
What else...? Let's see... You have
complete freedom.

BRUNETTE
To do what?

MIKE
I don't know... To grow, to go out.
Whatever you want.

BRUNETTE
Anything?

MIKE
Anything.

BRUNETTE
Like if I meet a handsome young man
and I wanted to ask him to dance? I
can do that?

MIKE
Uh, if the guy wants to.

BRUNETTE
You don't think the guy would find
me attractive enough to dance with?

MIKE
Yes. I mean, no. I mean, maybe he
would find her, I mean you attractive.
Maybe he doesn't like to dance. Maybe
all he likes to do is just stand
around and drink and smoke and look
cool with his buddies who don't dance
either...

BRUNETTE
Maybe it doesn't matter if he's a
good dancer cause it's a slow song,
if that's what he's afraid of.

MIKE
(smirk)
No... Maybe that's not the case.
Maybe she shouldn't be such a smug
little shit because she'd be surprised
at what a good dancer he really is,
but it's been a long time and he
doesn't know if he's ready to...

BRUNETTE
Mike...

She gets up. She's beautiful. She is beautiful.

BRUNETTE
...Will you dance with me?

She's in great shape, and look how classy her vintage dress
looks. A vision from the forties. She's too good for this
place. She belongs on the nose of a B-52. What can he say,
but...

MIKE
Sure I will.

He awkwardly leads her to the unusually empty dance floor.
They START TO DANCE. It's a slow song and they boringly rock
back and forth. Mike is self-conscious, but her touch. Oh
her touch.

CUT TO:

Trent and Sue watching in disbelief.

SUE
It is on.

TRENT
...it is so on.

BACK TO:

The couple's dance is cut short as there were only a few
bars left of the slow ballad. Mike smiles politely in relief
and begins to lead Lorraine off the floor.

She pulls him back. He's not getting off that easy. She wants
a whole song. He politely holds her, poised for another slow
number. They're alone on the floor.

Much to Mike's dismay, the song begins with a DRIVING TOM
TOM SOLO. This cues every hep cat in the Derby that the big
one's coming. They all flood the floor for the last dance of
the night.

Mike pleadingly shakes his head at Lorraine. It's too fast.
Her eyes narrow as her grip tightens. No sympathy here.

The band breaks into the full-tilt swing number and the dance
floor writhes around them.

They stand motionless for what seems like an eternity.

Gut check. Fuck it. Sink or swim.

Mike grabs her like a man grabs a woman. It's just a simple
six-count swing step, but they're in perfect harmony.

Mike and Lorraine look into each others eyes. It's on, baby.

As Mike's courage grows, the moves start to flow. A spin at
first. Then a double twirl. It's not long before he's throwing
her through combinations that stand out even among the pros.

CUT TO:

Trent and Sue, mouths agape.

BACK TO:

Mike is whipping her smoothly through violent-looking
combinations without a trace of hesitation, and, boy, can
she follow.

The set ends with a flourishing crescendo. They're frozen in
a final dip, panting through a glaze of clean sweat.

Mike and Lorraine smile and look into each other's eyes. The
smile slowly disappears. Will they kiss?

They're close.

Really close.

Lips almost touching.

Mike tries to muster-up the courage, but it's been so long.

He can't do it. He lets her up.

The floor clears. Exhausted dancers push past them. Forget
it. The moment's gone.

What the hell. They had a great time. What's the hurry?

SOFT CUT TO:

EXT. LA BREA AVENUE - OUTSIDE THE DERBY - NIGHT

Mike is walking Lorraine to her car. They come upon a parked
Escort.

LORRAINE
Well... This is it.

MIKE
Listen. I had a great time.

LORRAINE
Me too.

MIKE
I would love to see you again
sometime.

LORRAINE
I'll be around.

MIKE
That's not good enough. I want to
make plans to see you.

LORRAINE
Let me get a pen out of my car.
(opens the door)
Do you have something to write on?

Mike hands her a business card.

LORRAINE
(looking at it)
You're a comedian?

MIKE
Yeah. And an actor.

LORRAINE
I'll have to come see you sometime.

MIKE
If and when I get a real gig I'll
call you.

LORRAINE
It's not going to well?

MIKE
When I lived in New York they made
it sound like they were giving out
sit-coms to stand-ups at the airport.
I got off the plane in L.A. six months
ago and all I got to show for it is
a tan.

LORRAINE
Didn't you tell me to be patient
with my career?

MIKE
...Yeah, but entertainment law isn't
something you just jump into...

LORRAINE
Neither is acting. Not if you're
serious about it.
(She writes her number
on the card.)
Can I have one of these?

MIKE
Why, you like the duck with the cigar?
(hands her a card)

LORRAINE
Yeah. Nice touch. It's the logo from
"You Bet Your Life", right?

MIKE
Good eye. Not one club owner got it.
They all ask me why I got Donald
Duck on my card.

LORRAINE
Hey, at least it's not Goofy.

Beat.

LORRAINE
Well, I should be getting...

MIKE
...It's really getting late.

LORRAINE
...home. It's getting late. Yeah.

Beat.

LORRAINE
Can I give you a ride to your car...?

MIKE
...Nah. I'm right across the street...

LORRAINE
...Which one...?

MIKE
...The red piece of shit over there...

LORRAINE
...well, it suits you...

MIKE
...get the hell outta here already...

Mike leans in and slowly gives her the sweetest, softest,
most innocent kiss.

He backs up. She's got that goofy look as she unlocks her
club and starts the car.

LORRAINE
Bye.

She drives off.

He watches her go.

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. SUNSET BOULEVARD - NIGHT

Mike is driving Trent and Sue home in his car.

CUT TO:

INT. MIKE'S CAR - SUNSET BOULEVARD - SAME NIGHT

TRENT
You were off your ass back there!
Where the hell did you learn to do
all that twirly whirly shit?

MIKE
I took a ballroom class with Michelle.
I never danced with anyone but her,
til tonight. That Lorraine chick is
good.

TRENT
You were good. Did you see how she
was vibing you?

SUE
Sorry man.

TRENT
Yeah. You probably coulda hit that
tonight if you didn't have to drive
us home.

SUE
...Definitely...

MIKE
It's not like that...

TRENT
Don't give me that! She liked you,
man.

MIKE
I know she liked me. I mean, it's
not like I wanted to do anything
with her tonight.

SUE
Good for you, man. He's being smart.

MIKE
She's really special, guys.

TRENT
The bear's got his claws back.

SUE
Be smart about it.

TRENT
I'm telling you. Wait three days...

SUE
You don't have to wait three days...

TRENT
...Okay, two...

SUE
...just be smart about it.

MIKE
Guys... Guys... I got it under
control.

TRENT
Oh. He's got it under control...

SUE
...Well, then, I guess we don't have
to worry about him anymore.

TRENT
Our little baby's growing up...

Trent and sue pretend to cry and hug each other.

Mike looks at them in the rear view mirror.

He smirks and shakes his head.

MIKE
You guys are such assholes.

BACK TO:

INT. MIKE'S CAR - SUNSET BOULEVARD - NIGHT

Trent and Sue scream at the top of their lungs as they cruise
down Sunset. Alcohol is a terrible drug.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Mike is standing in the middle of the room looking at
LORRAINE'S NUMBER on the back of the BUSINESS CARD.

He looks at the clock.

2:45 A.M.

He looks back at the NUMBER.

Beat.

He thinks better of it. He wedges it into a crack in the
answering machine and unbuttons his shirt for bed...

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
Good move.

Mike smirks.

FADE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - THE NEXT MORNING

Mike wakes up and rolls out of bed.

He walks to the phone and pulls the CARD out of the crack.

He looks at the clock.

12:10 PM.

He sticks it back in the crack.

He makes an "x" on a day of his calendar.

CUT TO:

INT. MIKE'S BATHROOM - MIKE'S APARTMENT - DAY

Mike brushes his teeth.

He looks at the card clipped into the frame of the bathroom
mirror.

He turns the faucet, allowing exactly ONE DROP of his precious
Los Angeles water supply to drip onto his toothbrush.

He resumes brushing.

CUT TO:

EXT. "BOURGEOIS PIG" COFFEEHOUSE - LATE AFTERNOON

Mike sips espresso as he stares at the CARD.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. MIKE'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Mike is playing solitaire with the CARD laying above all the
playing cards.

The PHONE RINGS.

Mike rushes to get it, then forces himself to wait another
ring and a half exactly.

MIKE
Hello?

FEMALE VOICE
Hi Michael.

MIKE
Michelle?

MICHELLE
How's it going? It's been a while...

MIKE
...Six months.

MICHELLE
How are you doing?

MIKE
Fine... I guess. You?

MICHELLE
Good.
(pause)
I think about things.

MIKE
Yeah?

MICHELLE
Yeah.

MIKE
What kind of things?

MICHELLE
You know, us.

MIKE
I thought you met someone else.

MICHELLE
It doesn't matter. I think about you
every day.

MIKE
Really?

MICHELLE
I miss you, Mike.

MIKE
Why didn't you call?

MICHELLE
I couldn't. Do you know how hard
it's been not to call you? I pick up
the phone every night. Whenever that
commercial comes on...

MIKE
...the Michelin commercial...

MICHELLE
...Yeah, with the baby in the tire.
One time I started to cry right in
front of Pierre...

MIKE
Pierre... That's his name? Pierre?
Is he French?

MICHELLE
No, he's not... Listen I don't want
to talk about him. That's a whole
other headache. I called because I
heard you might be moving back to
Queens...

The BEEP of Mike's CALL WAITING.

MIKE
Hang on. Let me get rid of this call.

He clicks to the OTHER LINE.

MIKE
Hello?

LORRAINE
Hi, Mike?

MIKE
Lorraine?

LORRAINE
Are you on the other line?

MIKE
Yeah, hold on.

LORRAINE
I can call back...

MIKE
No, no. Hold on.

He clicks back to the OTHER LINE.

MIKE
Hi.

MICHELLE
I heard you might be moving back...

MIKE
Yeah, uh, I don't think that's gonna
be happening any time soon... Listen,
can I call you right back? I gotta
take this call...

MICHELLE
I'm not home and going out of town
tomorrow for a week. Can't you talk
for five more minutes?

MIKE
I really want to catch up with you,
but I've gotta take this call. They're
holding. I'll talk with you when you
get back in town. Bye.

MICHELLE
Goodbye. I lov...
(click)


Mike SWITCHES LINES, cutting Michelle off mid-sentence.

MIKE
Hi. Sorry about that.

LORRAINE
You didn't have to get off the other
line. I would've called you back.

MIKE
That's okay. I wanted to talk to
you.

Mike holds his palm over the receiver and looks at the
answering machine.

Beat.

MIKE
(to answering machine)
Do you realize that I've been waiting
for that call for six months and I
cut her off?

ANSWERING MACHINE
(synthesized voice)
You're money, baby.

Mike smiles.

Back to Lorraine.

MEDIUM SHOT of Mike through his window as he looks down onto
Franklin avenue and talks on the phone.

MIKE
Hi, Lorraine. Thanks for holding on.

LORRAINE
Listen, Mike. You really didn't have
to get off the line. I just wanted
to ask you one thing. I know I
shouldn't have called, I mean, my
friends said I should wait two days...
Oh God, I probably sound like such a
schoolgirl... It's just that it's
tonight only... I mean, it's Sinatra's
birthday and they have this thing
every year at "The Room". Do you
know where that is? It's impossible
to find if you've never been there.
I don't understand why none of the
clubs in Hollywood have signs. Anyway,
I'm so bad at this, if you're not
busy I thought you might...

Mike smiles as the CAMERA PULLS BACK from the window and
backwards down Franklin Avenue in a reverse of the first
shot of the movie. The soundtrack kicks in with Sinatra's
"Here's To The Losers"....

FRANK
Here's to those who love not too
wisely, no, not too wisely, but too
well... To the girl who sighs with
envy when she hears that wedding
bell... To the guy who'd throw a
party if he knew someone to call...
Here's to the losers... Bless them
all...

...We rise and pass the glowing Hollywood sign. It's still a
full moon...

FRANK
Here's to those who drink their
dinners when that lady doesn't show...
To the girls who wait for kisses
underneath that mistletoe... To the
lonely summer lovers when the leaves
begin to fall... Here's to the
losers... Bless them all...

...Past the blinking red beacon of the Capital Records
building...

FRANK
Hey Tom, Dick and Harry... Come in
out of the rain... Those torches you
carry... Must be drowned in
champagne...

...Up and over Hollywood Boulevard. High above the city...

FRANK
Here's the last toast of the
evening... Here's to those who still
believe... All the losers will be
winners... All the givers shall
receive... Here's to trouble-free
tomorrows... May your sorrows all be
small... Here's to the losers...
Bless them all.

...It's all just a pool of beautiful golden light.

FADE TO BLACK:

THE END

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