T H E   F I S H E R  K I N G


                                    a screenplay by

                                    RICHARD LAGRAVENESE












     COPYRIGHT (c) 1988 LAGRAVENESE

     HILL/OBST PRODUCTIONS
     REVISED - JANUARY 20, 1989


















     INT. DARKENED BEDROOM - DAWN

     C.U. - A RADIO/ALARM CLOCK reads 5:59 a.m., the digital numbers
     flip to 6:00 and the radio goes on:

     A TALK SHOW HOST speaks in a soft, soothing voice:

                         JACK (V.O.)
               It's six AM...Ooooooo and that
               bed never felt sooooo
               gooood...Mmmm, you linger in a
               gentle dream state...ever so
               comfortable... ever so safe...

     SOUND EFFECTS - LOUD BATTLE NOISE...

               ...BUT SUDDENLY YOU REALIZE IT'S
               MONDAY!

     A WOMAN SCREAMS...the D.J., JACK, speaks in a rapid fire pace...

     A HAND from O.C.  tries to shut the alarm off in the dark.

               ...your hand races to shut off
               the alarm before your mind wakes
               up...

     SCREAMS...THE HAND knocks over a water glass and grabs the clock
     but can't find the OFF switch.

               ...But it's too late!  If you
               don't get out of bed now, you'll
               never have enough time to blow
               dry your hair THAT SPECIAL WAY...
               You'll never make that nine
               o'clock meeting that your PARTNER
               WILL BE EARLY FOR... YOU'LL BE
               LATE AND EVERYONE WILL NOTICE!
 
     The HAND bangs the clock violently...

               ...Rumors will fly about you
               losing your edge and before you
               know it, you're selling yourself
               on street corners to lonely
               middle-aged men from the
               Midwest... Headlines flash across
               your mind - SLEEPER GUNS D.J.
               THEN SELF - CLAIMED "I only wanted
               two more minutes!"

     SCREAMS...SILENCE...The D.J.  (Jack) speaks in a normal voice.

               ...Hey, it's Monday morning, and
               I'm Jack Lucas.

     THE HAND rips the clock off the night table.

     OPENING CREDITS BEGIN........

     INT. KITCHEN - MORNING.

     A MAN in a shower listening to the radio...

                         WOMAN (V.O.)
                    (upset)
               ...I don't have to talk to you.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Yes...Yes, you do because you see,
               today, you're our -

                         PRE-RECORDED ECHOING V.O.
               SPOTLIGHT CELEBRITY.

                         WOMAN (V.O.)
               No, it's none of your business
               - it's MY business - and I'm very
               private about what is my business.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               OH, PLEASE!  You had sex with
               the Prime Minister of Belize in
               the parking lot of Sea World...
               You're telling me you're a private
               kind of person.  No...You're our...

                         PRE-RECORDED ECHOING V.O.
               SPOTLIGHT CELEBRITY....

                         WOMAN (V.O.)
               Listen, I have been humiliated
               enough already!

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Perhaps not - We need those
               details....

     The Woman hangs up...

                         CREW (V.O.)
               Oooooooo....

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. BATHROOM - MORNING.

     A NAKED MAN shaves as he listens to the radio.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               I'm peeved!  I'm calling Belize!
                    (telephone sounds)
               ...I WANT TO SPEAK TO THE PRIME
               MINISTER, PRONTO!

                         VOICE (V.O.)
               Yes...Belize Central Office.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Yes...yes, hello...Hello, this
               is Jack Lucas of the United States
               and I want to speak to the Prime
               Minister of Belize, PRONTO!...

                         VOICE ON PHONE (V.O.)
               He's not in.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               What you mean he's not in - you
               mean nobody's running the country!
               You mean I could just walk in
               there right now and take you up
               for a COUP before lunch.

                         VARIOUS CREW MEMBERS (V.O.)
               SURE!  LET'S DO IT!  LET'S CALL
               FRANCE!

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. KITCHEN - 7:45 AM.

     A WOMAN in a bathrobe fixes herself coffee as the radio plays.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Hi, this is Jack Lucas and we're
               discussing PERSONAL PET PEEVES...
               Go ahead, caller...

                         CALLER (V.O.)
               O.K.  Well, It's my husband.  He
               drives me crazy.  I'll be talking
               and he'll never let me finish a
               sentence...He's always finishing
               my...

                         JACK (V.O.)
                    (overlapping)
               Finishing your thoughts...that's
               awful.

                         CALLER (V.O.)
               Oh, that "drives me...."

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Drives you crazy, huh?  The
               scoundrel!

     INT. KITCHEN - 9:15 AM.

     A MAN reads the newspaper and sips coffee, as the radio plays.

                         CALLER (V.O.)
               Hello Jack.  It's Edwin.

                         JACK AND CREW (V.O.)
               IT'S EDWIN!!!!

     New Years Eve sound effects.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Edwin.  We haven't heard from you
               in a while.  I've missed you.

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (laughing
                     good-naturedly)
               O.K....O.K...

                         JACK AND CREW (V.O.)
               Awwww.......!!!!!

     SOUND EFFECTS - "A SUMMER PLACE"...THE NEEDLE IS SCRATCHED OFF.

     EDWIN laughs, perhaps a bit over zealously - HE is a
     SIMPLE-MINDED SOUL...a lonely child in the body of a lonely man.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               So, Edwin, baby, this is Sunrise
               Confession time...what have you got
               for us?

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
               I...I...went to this bar..this
               very, ya know, IN place...called
               The Side Bar.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               I know the place.  It's one of
               those YUPPIE gathering holes.
               I told you to stay away from them,
               Edwin.  Yuppies are diseased
               individuals who went to private
               schools and took scouting
               serious.

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (simple-minded laughter)
               Okay...I know but...I met this
               beautiful girl...

     SOUND EFFECT - "WEDDING BELLS" THEN A NEEDLE SCRATCHING IT OFF.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Now, Edwin, I'm going to have to
               remind you of the time we made
               you propose to that check-out girl
               at Thrifty's that you liked so
               much.  Remember her reaction?

                         BLACK SEVENTIES GROUP (V.O.)
               "MISTER BIG STUFF...HUH...TELL
               ME ...WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE...
               MISTER BIG STUFF...YOU'RE NEVER
               GOING TO GET MY LOVE..."

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (defensive)
               I wasn't really serious about her,
               Jack.  That was just a joke for
               you guys...She was just a girl.
               This is a woman.  She wears pearls.

                         JACK & CREW (V.O.)
               Aahhh.

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
               I think she likes me...she gave
               me her number, but she must work
               a lot 'cause when I call she's
               never home...But I think we'll
               go out this weekend...I've -

                         JACK (V.O.)
               Yeah, Edwin, SURE...and PINNOCHIO
               is a true story...EDWIN!  WAKE
               UP!  This is ANOTHER fairy tale.

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
               No, Jack, no, it's not.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               She gave you the brush off, kiddo.
               How long ago did you meet?

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
               Um...I think it's like two weeks
               almost.

                         JACK (V.O.)
               TWO WEEKS?  And she's never home?
               What, does she commute to Siagon
               every day?  Edwin, please...

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (hurt)
               JACK!  She LIKES me.  She said for
               me to call.

                         MICHAEL MCDONALD (V.O.)
                    (sings)
               "WHAT A FOOL BELIEVES...HE SEES.."

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (over the song)
               JACK!

                         JACK (V.O.)
               I told you about those kind of
               people, Edwin.  They only mate
               with their own kind.  It's called
               YUPPIE IN-BREEDING - that's why
               so many of them are retarded and
               wear the same clothes.  You are
               not their kind Edwin...They're
               not human.  They're evil, Edwin.

     SLIGHT PAUSE, as EDWIN considers this.

                         EDWIN (V.O.)
                    (serious)
               O.K., Jack.

     END CREDITS

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. RADIO STATION - 9:30 AM.

     CAMERA PANS from a wall clock as JACK LUCAS winds up his
     broadcast:

                         JACK LUCAS (O.C.)
               Well, I'm gone.  I'm outta here.
               It's been a thrill, as always.
                    (false sincerity)
               "Have a perfect day"...and
               remember, bosses are just cruel
               third graders who have grown up
               and only pretended to be mature
               so they could get jobs and be
               cruel for money.

     WE PAN several studio technicians making ready for the end of
     the broadcast to the talk show host JACK LUCAS - handsome,
     aggressive, intelligent - an underground media star.

                         JACK
               Everyone here on the Jack Lucas
               Morning Show says bye.

                         CREW
               BYE!

     THANKS FOR THE MEMORY plays.

                         JACK
               This is Jack Lucas...So long...
               arriverderch...I'll be sure to
               send you a thought as you struggle
               through yet another eternal
               nine-to-fiver...Yes, I will - as
               I drive home in my limo...lay out
               on my sun deck...have sex with
               the teenager of my choice...And
               that thought will be: Thank God
               I'm me!

                         JACK
                    (annoyed, to the room)
               I want you all to know I'm getting
               sick again and it's because
               someone keeps forgetting to raise
               the thermostat before I come in
               here...My ass is freezing for the
               first hour.

     A TECHY makes mocking faces behind his back.  Another TECHY
     suppresses a laugh.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. JACK'S APARTMENT - AFTERNOON.

     An expansive Tribeca loft.  The modern, minimalist decor gives
     it a sleek, cold feeling.  A space full of angles and edges,
     with no place to feel safe and sound.

                                             CUT TO:

     A BATHROOM MEDICINE CHEST -

     The mirrored door closes revealing JACK'S reflection - his head
     and body still wet from the shower.  HE begins to towel himself
     dry.  HE take a good look at his handsome face in the mirror -
     admiring every contour, every pore.  HIS eyes light up with
     satisfaction.

                                             CUT TO:

     KITCHEN AREA

     JACK'S GIRLFRIEND, SONDRA - an artist with a beautifully
     sculptured face and body - sleek, cold, like JACK'S apartment,
     there is no place to feel safe and sound.  SHE is eating a bowl
     of cereal, studying the cereal box.  Beside her is a SKETCHPAD
     with an ink drawing of a stalk of wheat (similar to the cereal
     box) growing out of the belly button of a naked male-figure
     who's torso/pelvis is shaped like a map of America.  JACK
     enters, toweling his hair.

                         SONDRA
               I know it's predictable but I've
               decided to just go with it and
               make his penis Florida.

                         JACK
               Can I ask that when you clean your
               hands you wipe the ink off the
               inside of the sink before it
               stains the porcelain.

                         SONDRA
               You can ask.

     JACK exits

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. BEDROOM AREA - SAME TIME

     JACK'S hand picks up a television script entitled; "ON THE
     RADIO" HE slides onto the bed with the script in his lap and
     opens to the first page...HE closes the script and breathes a
     sigh - leaning back against the pillow, holding the script to
     his chest and closing his eyes as if he were making a wish.

                         SONDRA (O.C.)
               Raoul called before.  About dinner.

     JACK quickly opens his eyes.  SONDRA crosses to the wall of
     closets and begins to undress.

                         JACK
               About dinner as a concept or about
               dinner with...
                    (over-enunciating)
               R A O U L?

                         SONDRA
                    (deadpan)
               You're so witty.  I'm so jealous.
                    (BEAT)
               I NEED to get out of here, Jack,
               and do something other than sit
               in this apartment and count how
               many funny lines you have per
               page.

                         JACK
               You know, tomorrow's a very big
               day for me...And it would be nice
               if you acted like you understood.

                         SONDRA
               Fine.  I'll say no.

                         JACK
               It IS my first day of taping,
               Sondra.

                         SONDRA (O.C.)
               Fine.

                         JACK
                    (looking at script;
                     sincere, vulnerable)
               First time in my life I'll be a
               voice with a body.  Do you know
               what that means?  What this could
               lead to?

                         SONDRA
                    (unsnapping her bra in
                     the front)
               Jack, it's a sitcom - you're not
               splitting the atom.

                         JACK
               I'll remember that the next time
               you get excited over drawing pubic
               hairs on raisin bran.
                    (lighting joint and
                     inhaling)
               Want some?

                         SONDRA
               No, I have to work.

                         JACK
               How un-sixties of you.

                         SONDRA
               I was nine in the sixties.

                         JACK
               I used to think my biography would
               be JACK LUCAS - THE FACE BEHIND
               THE VOICE, but now it can be JACK
               LUCAS, THE FACE AND THE VOICE...or
               maybe just JACK - EXCLAMATION
               POINT...

     SONDRA slips off her panties.  JACK eyes her butt as she crossed
     into the bathroom.  Feeling sexy, he rises and follows her.

     SONDRA leans over and turns on the shower.  The bathroom door
     slams behind her.  SHE turns quickly.  JACK is standing there,
     naked.  Acting sexy, HE walks toward her as he flexes his chest
     muscles - right, left, right, left...HE grabs her is his arms,
     dips her over backwards and kisses her passionately.  HE raises
     her up.

                         SONDRA
                    (unaffected)
               Jack, I have work to do, too.
               I just want to take a shower...

     HE dips her again, kisses her, this time leaving her "dipped."

               ...Can't we do this later?...

     JACK scoops her up in his arms.

               ...JACK!...What are you--

     HE makes his way out of the bathroom, which is difficult -
     considering it's small and cluttered as SONDRA has long legs.
     When HE turns, SONDRA'S feet knock over their cosmetic shelf...

     HE turns the other way, purposely smothering her head in the
     towels.  SONDRA can't help but laugh...

                         JACK
                    (overly seductive)
               I can't open the door, my darling.

                         SONDRA
               Well, you better open the door
               - 'cause I'm not getting it in
               a bathroom.

                         JACK
               Yes, my darling.

     HE eases her down, keeping his arm around her, opens the door
     and guides her out as he kisses her neck.

                         SONDRA
               You're a maniac.

                         JACK (O.C.)
                    (comically seductive)
               You make me wet.

                         SONDRA (O.C.)
               If we do this now, can I have
               dinner with Raoul?

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

     A MONTAGE OF JACK'S EVENING ALONE.

     1 - JACK turns on his CD player and moves about the empty living
     room, singing along with FRANK SINATRA: "IN THE WEE SMALL HOURS
     OF THE MORNING."  (THE SONG plays in BG to #4)

     2 - JACK on the phone, struggling with a Chinese take-out order.

                         JACK
               No...I want one order beef with
               baby peas...and two egg roll..ONE
               ORDER BEEF.  Is there anyone who
               speaks English there...I'm sorry
               but you're bumming me out - I want
               one order BEEF WITH BABY PEAS...
               and TWO egg roll...O.K...You
               understand now?  Jack Lucas...
               Lucas...L - U -...L! L! L!...Like
               in...Lichee nut! Lichee! Leper!

     3 - JACK UNPLUGS HIS PHONE and picks up a copy of his script.
     HE faces a full length mirror.  HE throws the script down, takes
     a dramatic breath, them plays to his reflection.

                         JACK
               "...I want my...

     False start.  JACK clears his throat, pauses, then tries
     again...

               ...I want my orange cup with the
               teddy bear."

     4 - CAMERA PANS a bathroom floor - a brown paper bag, plate of
     half-eaten Chinese food, a bottle of beer, into a bathtub where
     JACK languishes in a bubble bath, browsing through a brochure
     of FERRARIS - "oooooing" and "Aaahhhing" orgasmically at each
     picture.  The STEREO now PLAYS - BOB MARLEY'S, "IS THIS LOVE."
     JACK suddenly closes the magazine and recites...

                         JACK
               "IwantMYorangecupWITHtheteddybear.
               IwantmyORANGEcupwiththeteddybear.
               IwantmyorangecupwiththeTEDDYbear."
                    (smiles)
               You could burp these lines and
               you'd be funny.
                    (sincere amazed
                     realization)
               I have this.  I have this.
                    (sinks into tub and
                     Whispers)
               I really have this.

     END OF MONTAGE

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. JACK'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

     ALARM CLOCK - it reads 11:15.

     JACK tosses the script onto his night table and begins to rub
     his head.  The television on, but the volume off.  A half-eaten
     dessert sits beside him.  HE suddenly notices an 8x1O glossy
     of himself broadcast on the TV.  Confused, JACK picks up his
     remote and raises the volume.

     TELEVISION - A NEWS BROADCAST: a REPORTER in mid-report.

                         REPORTER
               ...suggested that Mr. Malnick
               return to the scene of his initial
               meeting...

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. THE SIDE BAR - NIGHT

                         REPORTER (V.O.)
               An after work hot spot, the Side
               Bar...is popular with single young
               professionals.  Edwin Malnick
               arrived at the peak hour of 7:15,
               took a long look at the handsome
               collection of the city's best and
               brightest - then removed a shotgun
               from his overcoat and opened fire.

     JACK'S face turns white.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. SIDE BAR - NIGHT

     The bar's glass has been blasted.  Tables are overturned.
     Paramedics are running about.

                         REPORTER
               Seven people were killed before
               Mr. Malnick...

     A PICTURE OF EDWIN MALNICK is shown as the REPORTER continues.

               ...turned the gun on himself and
               shot a hole through his head...

     EDWIN MALNICK looked sad and harmless.  JACK quickly grabs the
     PHONE and RE-PLUGS it.  HE is about to make a call when he is
     stopped by the REPORTER mentioning his name...

                         REPORTER (ON TV)
               The last person Mr. Malnick spoke
               to was Jack Lucas.  Representatives
               of Mr. Lucas expressed regret,
               however, no formal comment has
               been made.  But a lonely man
               reached out to a world he knows
               only through his radio - looking
               for friendship...finding only pain
               ...and tragedy.  This is Mark
               Shaffer...Channel Ten news.

     JACK is frozen.  His breathing grows heavy.  HIS phone begins
     to ring, but JACK is unable to move.

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. VIDEO STOP - DAY

     WE SUPER: A YEAR or so LATER.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. VIDEO STOP - DAY.

     CAMERA PANS the CUSTOMERS at the counter of the video store.

                         PUDGY WOMAN
                    (to counter person)
               I can't watch foreign movies when
               I eat - they make me nauseous.

     CAMERA PANS TO a variety of CUSTOMERS looking through the
     shelves.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. VIDEO STOP OFFICE - SAME TIME

     CLOSE UP - THE HEADLINE OF A SENSATIONALIST (NATIONAL ENQUIRER) T

               WOMAN KILLS PLASTIC SURGEON, THEN SELF
               TOLD FRIENDS; I CAN'T BLINK WITHOUT PAIN

     The picture of a bug-eyed society woman is below the caption.

     ANNE, the owner of the store, enters abruptly - closing the
     office door behind her, a cigarette dangling for her mouth.
     Her desk is organized litter - her walls are filled with porno
     tapes.  SHE searches for one as she talks.

                         ANNE
               These people are insane today.
               They took insane pills...

     A bit about ANNE as she searches for a video.

     ANNE is in her mid-to-late thirties....and she is all woman.
     She has a raw, earthy, unmistakable sensuality.  Her red
     lipstick matches her red nail polish like a hat and glove set.
     Inlaid on each nail is a rhinestone design of a little star.
     Her angora sweaters are tight and clinging, giving her breasts
     a decided lift and perkiness.  Her tight slacks and backless
     pumps that slap the ground, encourage her buns to have a life
     of their own.  A half-smoked cigarette hangs out of her mouth
     with great expertise - a skill ANNE obviously picked up in a
     high school bathroom.  Her voice is thick with a delicious
     Brooklyn twang.  SHE is pure street-wise in attitude, philosophy
     and emotions.

     SHE turns and speaks to the man behind the tabloid.

                         ANNE
               Hey!  Mr. Happiness!

     THE MAN LOWERS THE NEWSPAPER:

     It is JACK LUCAS.  No longer the aggressive radio star, but more
     a man who looks like he hasn't slept in months.  Rings under
     the eyes, a sullen yet cynical expression across his face.  An
     intolerant and self-pitying misanthrope..The outrageous articles
     fascinate him.  HE stares back at her pitifully.

                         ANNE
               Are we going to work a little
               today or are ya gonna act like
               your puppy's been run over by a
               truck?  Hmm?

     JACK rises to stand before her.  HE notices, with some
     annoyance, that her bra straps are showing out from her sweater.
     He fixes them.

                         JACK
               Are you going for a specific look
               with this?

     SHE makes a face and exits.  JACK raises his eyebrow and
     follows.

                                             CUT TO:
     INT. VIDEO STOP - COUNTER

     JACK'S POV - CAMERA moves "cautiously" out into the video store,
     taking in the crowd as they move about the hundreds of boxes
     of movies.  Suddenly, the GIANT FACE OF A FRUMPY SECRETARY who
     looks like she rents movies in lieu of no dates - POPS INTO
     FRAME.

                         WOMAN
                    (to JACK)
               Can you help me?  I don't know
               what I'm in the mood for.  Uh...I
               sort of want a Katherine Hepburny
               kinda Cary Granty kinda thing -
               something sorta nutty and
               screwbally, ya know?  Nothing
               heavy...I couldn't take heavy.
               Ya have something like that?

                         JACK
                    (very low key)
               Uhh....

                         WOMAN
                    (acting helpless)
               I don't know...Uh...

     JACK seems frightened by the stupidity of this woman.

                         WOMAN
               Maybe something more modern.  Like
               a Goldie Hawny - Chevy Chasey
               kinda thing, huh?

     JACK is growing angry.  HE stares at the woman menacingly.

                         WOMAN
               Or maybe a musical -
                    (leans into close-up)
               Ya got SATURDAY NIGHT FEVER?

     JACK just stares at her in silent rage from behind the counter.

                         JACK
               Well...what will it be?

                         WOMAN
               Well, like I said - maybe a
               musical.
                    (laughs then flirts)
               I'm not sure.  What are you in
               the mood for?

     JACK stares at the woman manically then turns to look at the
     shelves of returned movies behind the desk.  HE selects one and
     hands it to the woman.

                         WOMAN
               Great...
                    (reading box aloud)
               "ORDINARY PEEPHOLES"

     THE WOMAN'S eyes go wide.  JACK just stares at her deadpan.

                         JACK
               It's kind of a - Big Titty -
               Spread Cheeky kinda thing...I
               cried all the way through it...

     ANNE has been listening to this entire exchange.  SHE hastily
     crosses up beside JACK.

                         ANNE
                    (to WOMAN)
               ...I'm sorry.  I need to borrow
               him for a moment.

     As ANNE tugs at his sleeve, JACK eyes the WOMAN like a maniac
     being lead away from his prey.  HE follows ANNE back into her
     office.  Once inside, SHE stands before JACK who leans against
     her office door, closing it behind him.

                         ANNE
               Not for nuthin - but there's this
               thing we have in business...it
               might help you a little.  It's
               called "customa relations."

                         JACK
                    (deadpan intensity)
               I'm sorry.  You know I hate people
               who ask for screwball comedies.

     ANNE moves in closer and caresses his face tenderly.

                         ANNE
               Sweetie, honey...You hate people.
                    (sympathetic)
               What is it?  Is this one of those
               days when you tell me you're in...
               whadda call it...an emotional
               abyss?
                    (HE doesn't answer)
               Why don't you take the day off.
               I'll cook tonight.  O.K?

     SHE kisses him, then exits.  JACK is not comforted in the least
     by this show of affection.

     EXT. NEW YORK CITY STREET - TWILIGHT

     As JACK takes a walk down a city street, he comes upon a
     luxurious hotel.  HE stops to watch the goings-on at the
     entrance.

                                             CUT TO:

     A LIMOUSINE - parked and awaiting it's occupants.  A handsome
     MAN in his forties exits the hotel and walks toward the limo.
     HE is holding the hand of his FlVE-YEAR-OLD SON, who is carrying
     a two foot high plastic, smiling PINNOCHIO DOLL.  Both father
     and son are dressed in ties and jackets.

     JACK watches in envy.  HIS own clothes a shabby reflection of
     the MAN'S.  HE eyes the limo with longing.  Another limo pulls
     up beside it and a gang of YOUNG RICH KIDS laugh their way out
     of the back seat.

     JACK is so mesmerized, he doesn't notice the FIVE-YEAR-OLD BOY.

                         BOY (O.C.)
               Mr. Bum.

     JACK looks down.  The BOY has walked directly to him.  JACK sort
     of smiles.  The BOY extends his arms and offers the PINNOCHIO
     doll to JACK.  JACK is confused but the boy simply deposits the
     doll into his arms and walks back to the limo.  By that time,
     the FATHER has returned and the two drive off.

                                             CUT TO:
     WIDE ANGLE

     JACK holding the doll.  HE is surrounded by STREET PEOPLE asleep
     or drunk on the sidewalk near the hotel.  HE angrily realizes
     there's not much difference between him and them.

                         JACK
               Anybody here named Jimminey?

     A drunk groans.  JACK snaps the doll under his arm and walks OC.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. BAR - EARLY EVENING.

     On the bar sit seven empty martini glasses. Beside them sits a
     smiling PINNOCHIO - his nose in one of the martini glasses.
     JACK stares out in a drunken haze. THE EX-HEAVYWEIGHT BARTENDER
     approaches from behind the bar. JACK downs the glass and holds it
     out to the BARTENDER. The BARTENDER begins to fix another.

                                      BARTENDER
                    Mr. Lucas, why don't you make
                    this the last one, then go home. Huh?

                                      JACK
                    I don't have a home Joe.  I'm all
                    alone ...
                       (looks to PINNOCHIO & smiles)
                    Except for my little Italian friend here.
                       (kisses PINNIOCHIO'S little head)

                                      BARTENDER
                       (hands him drink)
                    I never seen you like this. Did somebody
                    not know who you were again?

                                      JACK
                    I never was, Joe...
                    You ever read any Nietzsche?...

     THE BARTENDER clearly has not.

                    ....Nieztsche says that there are two
                    kinds of people in this world.
                    ... People who are destined for greatness...
                    and then us. He calls us the
                    Bungled and Botched. We get teased
                    with greatness but we never have it.
                    We're the expendable masses. We
                    get pushed in front of trains ...
                    take poision aspirins...
                    .. get gunned down in Dairy Queens...
                    Don't you ever want to know the reason Joe?

                                      BARTENDER
                    My name is Phil.

                                      JACK
                    Phil.

                                      BARTENDER
                    No, I don't.

                                      JACK
                    Do you ever get the feeling you're
                    being punished for your sins Joe?

                                      BARTENDER (OC)
                    Phil...
                       (JACK nods)
                    No.

     PHIL exits. JACK nods agreeably, then turns to PINNOCHIO.

                                      JACK
                    You wanna hear my new title for my biography.
                    "IT WAS NO PICNIC" - THE JACK LUCAS STORY"
                       (no response from PINNOCHIO)
                    Just nod yes or no...
                       (tries it in pig-Italian)
                    "IL NOUVA ESTA PINICKO" -

     THE VOLUME on the TV above the bar is raised, pulling JACK'S
     attention.

                                      NEWS REPORTER
                    ...Another homeless man was found burned
                    to death in the Lower East Side. It
                    is the second such incident in two weeks...
                    That story when we return-

     JACK winces at the thought, then raises his hand to PHIL.
     A COMMERCIAL is broadcast on the TV.

                                      ANNOUNCER (OC)
                    ... New this fall...

     CANNED LAUGH TRACK LAUGHS. JACK looks back up to the TV.

                    ...From the creators of TWO IN A BUSH
                    comes ON THE RADIO - starring BEN STARR.

     A SEGMENT FROM THE SITCOM IS SHOWN: An unshaven BEN STARR sits
     at a breakfast nook with his wife.

                                      WIFE
                    Honey. Have some breakfast then go
                    down to the station and demand your job back.

                                      BEN STARR
                    I can't...

                                      WIFE
                    Yes you can. Just go straight to
                    Bill's office and-

                                      BEN STARR
                    No, I mean I can't eat breakfast.
                       (whiny)
                    I WANT MY ORANGE CUP WITH THE TEDDY BEAR.

     UPROARIOUS LAUGH TRACKS. JACK's eyebrow rises past his skull.

                                      ANNOUNCER
                    For the funniest D.J. on T.V. -
                    ON THE RADIO - this fall on channel ten ...

     JACK stares menacingly at the TV then looks away. HE sees his
     reflection in the mirror of the bar - the hard expression, the
     pallor, the possibilities gone...It's the last straw.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. - EAST RIVER, NEW YORK CITY - NIGHT.

     C.U. OF TWO FEET stand beneath the railing overlooking the East
     river. Taped to one ankle is a brick. Taped to the other is a
     brick around a SMILING PINNOCHIO DOLL. An empty bottle of liquor
     drops to the ground and shatters.

                                                      CUT TO:

     JACK - prepared to surrender his fate and make the final leap.
     HE stares at the river, almost smiling. HE has made his decision.
     HE tries to raise his foot over the railing.

                                      VOICE (OC)
                    What's going on?

     Surprised, JACK turns around.

     TWO WHITE JUEVENILE DELINQUENTS - one wearing a leather jacket,
     the other a high school football windbreaker - stand behind
     JACK. Each are carrying a gallon of gasoline.

     JACK is drunk but he is immediately aware of the danger when
     he spots the gasoline cans.

                                      LEATHER
                    I said what's going on?
                       (walks up to JACK)
                    What are you doing here?

     JACK shakes his head and before he knows it, LEATHER shoves a
     fist into his gut, sinking him to his knees. WINDBREAKER places
     the gasoline cans on the bench and begins to unscrew them.

                                      LEATHER
                    You shouldn't hang around this
                    neighborhood.

                                      JACK
                    O.K...

                                      LEATHER
                    People like my Dad pay alot of
                    money for this neighborhood.
                    They don't like looking out their
                    window for 2500 a month and seein
                    your ass asleep on the benches -
                    you understand?

                                      JACK
                    Yes..Yes..I do...I won't come back.

                                      LEATHER
                    Good.
                       (to WINDBREAKER)
                    You believe this drunk?

     WINDBREAKER shakes his head.

                    .....Me neither.

                                      JACK
                       (crying)
                    NO...NO PLEASE..

     WINDBREAKER hands LEATHER the can, who raises it above JACK'S
     head. AS THE GASOLINE SLOWLY LEAKS ONTO A PETRIFIED JACK SEES A
     FIGURE MOVING OUT FROM THE DARKNESS OF THE TREES.

                                      FIGURE
                    LEAVE HIM ALONE!

     Startled, THE YOUTHS TURN.

     THE SHADOWY FIGURE stands defiantly.

                                      WINDBREAKER
                    Shit. Let's go. We blew it.

                                      LEATHER
                    No.

     THE FIGURE steps out of the darkened, grassy area and into
     the light of a promenade street lamp.

                                      LEATHER
                       (disgusted)
                    Jesus...They're all over the place.

     The figure turns out to be A BUM. Grimy face, tattered layers
     of clothing beneath a long over coat, a pork pie hat with a
     twig sticking out of it like a plume in a helmet of yore.
     Although clearly downtrodden, behind his beaten appearance, there
     radiates a calm intelligence and strength. There is something
     distinctly attractive and confident about him, as he stands there
     smiling at these two juvenile would-be terrorists. We learn later
     his name is PARRY; a combination of Don Quixote and Harpo Marx.

     LEATHER calls to him threateningly, with the gasoline can.

                                      LEATHER
                    You know, there's enough in here
                    for the two of you.

                                      PARRY
                    I advise you to let us go.

                                      LEATHER
                    You advise us!

                                      PARRY
                    You're out numbered.

     PARRY glances over LEATHER's shoulder. LEATHER TURNS to see:
     A BUM pushing a shopping cart comes out of the darkness. HE
     is mumbling to himself incoherently.

     Another BUM, wearing mountains of clothing, appears from
     the dark several yards behind WINDBREAKER - who is growing
     unnerved by these newcomers.

     PARRY looks to the trees and a third BUM - tall, black and
     wearing a garbage bag - steps out of the dark, menacingly.

     Taken by themselves, the BUMS would look harmless and pathetic.
     But in the context of their uncharacteristic organization -
     THEY appear frightening.

                                      WINDBREAKER
                       (Releasing his grip on PARRY)
                    Shit. It's like fucking Night of the
                    Living Dead.

     JACK is frozen, in total confusion and fear.

     LEATHER tries to remain confident. HE laughs.

                                      LEATHER
                    Am I supposed to be scared? Come on!
                    They're nuts. They can't do anything.
                       (yells at them)
                    GET OUTTA HERE!

     But the BUMS stand motionless.

                                      PARRY
                    They only listen to me.

                                      LEATHER
                    Yeah right...They don't even understand
                    what the fuck THEY'RE saying -
                    they're going to understand you?

     LEATHER and WINDBREAKER watch apprehensively as PARRY raises his
     hand to signal. Each bum reaches into his "possessions", as if
     to pull out a weapon. Instead, each bum pulls out a flashlight and
     shines them on the two youths, blinding them from seeing PARRY.

                                      WINDBREAKER
                       (shielding his eyes)
                    Shit.

                                      LEATHER
                    You're gonna need more than your
                    zombie pals when I get through with you.

     HE brandishes his knife towards the dark spot where he assumes
     PARRY is standing.

                                      PARRY
                    Son...There comes a time in
                    every man's life...and you will
                    learn this, if and when you become men...

     From his overcoat, PARRY pulls out a long tube sock tied at the
     end and filled with a softball at the bottom...

                    ....That there are only two things in
                    this world ya need...

     HE begins to swing the sock over his head - centrifugally
     gaining force.

                    ...Respect for all kinds of life,
                    because that's what's right - and
                    the love of one other person who
                    you can trust and pork on a regular basis.

     PARRY releases the "weapon".

                                                       CUT TO:

     LEATHER and WINDBREAKER - As the sock flies out of the darkness
     and, with amazing accuracy - beans LEATHER on the forehead
     between his eyes. HE drops his knife to rub his head.

                                      LEATHER
                       (sinking out of camera)
                    Ow...Ow....OW!

     WINDBREAKER grows worried as PARRY reaches in to the lining
     of his coat, pulls out another "sock weapon" and starts swinging.

                                      PARRY
                    However, the ability to bean
                    a shithead can be a fabulous advantage.

     WINDBREAKER runs away. The BUM with the shopping cart YELLS at him
     as he bolts by. PARRY crosses to a speechless JACK.

                                      PARRY
                       (picking up LEATHER'S knife)
                    Are you all right?

                                      LEATHER
                       (kneeling, rubbing his head)
                    OWW...MAN...

                                      JACK
                       (disoriented)
                    Uh...should we call the police?

                                      PARRY
                    Nah. This is our fight. I think it would
                    be nice if we tied him up though...If I had
                    time I'd give him a bad haircut..

     HE kneels down, pulls out some rope from his coat and proceeds
     to tie LEATHER to a bench as he converses matter-of-factly...

                                      PARRY
                       (hands JACK the LEATHER'S knife)
                    Here, would you take care of this.

     JACK, sickened by the sight of it, throws it in the river.

                                      JACK
                    I need a drink.

     Pulls his pockets out to find no money.

                                      PARRY
                    I know a great place.
                       (puts his arm on his shoulder)
                    Drinks are on me!

     O.C. THE BUMS cheer.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. HALLWAY OF ANNE'S APARTMENT BUILDING - NIGHT.

     ANNE walks down the hall to a neighbor's apartment and knocks.
     AN ETHNIC MIDDLE-AGED WOMAN in a bathrobe opens the door.

                         WOMAN
               Yeah darling.

                         ANNE
                    (hesitant to ask)
               I'm sorry to bother you but...
               uh...
                    (decides to go for it)
               I heard from somewhere your
               husband drank?

                         WOMAN
                    (calmly, openly)
               Oh, yeah.  He was a big drunk.

                         ANNE
               Well...the thing is, see -
                    (vulnerable and worried)
               My fella's not home...things
               haven't been going his way lately
               ...Ya know how it is...and I was
               wondering -when he drank, your
               husband, was there anyplace in
               particular he went...a cheap bar
               in the neighborhood...

                         WOMAN
               Who knew.  When he left this
               apartment it was no longer my
               problem.  When he came back, it
               was my problem.

     ANNE sighs.  THE WOMAN understands ANNE'S problem all too
     clearly.

                         WOMAN
               ...Let me tell you something, my
               darling.  And I'm telling you
               cause when you started talking,
               I got a feeling right here...
                    (presses her sternum)
               ...before your heart breaks like
               mine...get rid of this man.

     ANNE smiles.  SHE obviously can't.

                         ANNE
               Thank you.

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. GREAT JONES ALLEY - NIGHT.

     JACK and PARRY sit on the sidewalk facing the three bums from
     the previous scene - A BLACK, A MIDDLE-AGED IRISHMAN and AN
     EX-HIPPIE.  The trio sit against the alley wall, discussing the
     issues of the day as they pass a bottle of THUNDERBIRD.

                         BLACK
               Death penalty's just another
               violation of my constitutional
               right to satisfaction.

                         IRISHMAN
               I hate that.

                         HIPPIE
               So, you mean if somebody like,
               killed your mother, you wouldn't
               want him dead?

                         BLACK
               Sure I would.  But I should get
               to kill him.

                         IRISHMAN
                    (explaining further)
               He gets to kill him.  That's
               democracy, see.

     A LULL takes over as they all consider this.

                                             CUT TO:

     C.U.: JACK sitting the furthest apart from the group - holding
     the bottle, HE mumbles to himself.

                         JACK
               This is it.  I'm in hell.  I've
               been damned to an eternity of
               idiotic conversation.

     HE puts the bottle to his lips and:

     FROM JACK'S POV, WE FADE OUT OF THE SCENE ON THE NEXT LINES - AS
     EYES AND SLIPS INTO A DRUNKEN SLUMBER.

                         HIPPIE
               You were great tonight, Parry.
                    (affirmations from the
                     other two)
               Superbum, man!  Fucking Marvel
               Comics...

     THE BUMS CHEER....FADE OUT.

                                                      FADE-UP ON:

     INT. PARRY'S BASEMENT HIDEAWAY - MORNING.

     JACK is asleep on a mattress beside a boiler. HE slowly awakens
     - the first dull pangs of a mean hangover making itself known.
     HE opens his eyes, confused - not knowing exactly what happened.

                                                      CUT TO:

     THE GIANT FACE OF PARRY, sitting upright beside him.

                                      PARRY
                    How are you feeling?

     JACK nods, suspiciously.  HE notice the basement surroundings -

                                      JACK
                    Have I died?

                                      PARRY
                       (friendly)
                    Hahahahaaa..Nononono...

                                      JACK
                       (his head throbbing)
                    If you're going to murder me,
                    that's fine...just don't laugh.

     HE tries to focus his eyes and looks around the room.

     There is an extremely organized "living area" - a make-shift
     kitchen w/hot plate, a nail in a wall w/clothes on hangers...

     There is also a DUMPSTER SITTING BENEATH A GARBAGE CHUTE -
     The dumpster has planets and stars painted on it's side.

     JACK looks to the far wall and sees a hand-painted mural,
     depicting a medieval-style setting; grassy landscape, knights
     and maidens on horses and a CASTLE-LIKE BUILDING...all rather
     amateurish but with a definite committment to the period.

     In the foreground of this mural, stands a striking figure -
     a five foot high KNIGHT CLOAKED IN A RED CAPE sitting atop a
     fiery steed. The figure is imposing and villainous.

     JACK looks to the other wall and finds PARRY'S ARSENOL -
     homemade "weapons" that also look Medieval like lances made
     from mop sticks, nets made of knotted rope, slingshots and
     a shield made from a garbage can cover with a rose painted on it.

     JACK doesn't know what to make of all this. HE is frightened.

                                      PARRY
                    It's all right. Don't be embarassed.
                    Yes, I live in a boiler room.
                    My name's Parry. We met last night.

     HE holds out his hand. JACK takes it cautiously.

                                      JACK
                    Jack Lucas...

                                      PARRY
                       (reciting it back)
                    "Jack Lucas".

     PAUSE. PARRY suddenly JUMPS UP AS IF BEING CALLED. (NOTE: PARRY
     has a tendency to move suddenly - flying and darting about the
     room)

                                      PARRY
                       (to the air)
                    WHAT!

                                      JACK
                    HUH?

                                      PARRY
                    WHAT?

                                      JACK
                    WHAT?

                                      PARRY
                       (to JACK)
                    Ssshhhhh.

     PARRY looks as if he is listening to someone.
     JACK doesn't understand. HE starts to creep away, toward the door.

                                      PARRY
                       (understanding)
                    Oohhhhh.
                       (to JACK)
                    HEY JACK LUCAS!

     HE flies next to JACK. JACK freezes.

                    ....Can you keep a secret?

                                      JACK
                    No...

                                      PARRY
                    Do you know what THE LITTLE PEOPLE just told me?

                                      JACK
                       (getting nervous)
                    The Little People?

     PARRY gets closer to JACK.

                                      PARRY
                    THEY said you're the one.

                                      JACK
                    They're mistaken. I am definitely not
                    anyone...

     HE continues to edge toward the door. PARRY stands abruptly
     and yells once again at thin air.

                                      PARRY
                       (to the LITTLE PEOPLE)
                    Well, I've gotta say something!
                    I mean you're tying my hands here!!

     JACK crawls quickly but is stopped by PARRY, who plops down in
     front of him.

                                      PARRY
                    They say you're not ready to know.

                                      JACK
                    I'm not.

                                      PARRY
                    I know all this sounds strange but...
                       (sincerely)
                    I really do hear them.

     JACK nods, trying to hold it together.

                    ...Do you know who I am?
                       (JACK SHAKES HIS HEAD)
                    ...Go on. Take a guess.
                       (shouts to the air)
                    LET HIM GUESS!! Tch.

     Frightened, JACK decides to humor him.

                                      JACK
                    Uh...well...some kind of...vigilante.

                                      PARRY
                       (boyish)
                    Noooo...I mean that sort of happens
                    along the way but noooo I'm on a
                    what you call a "quest" See...
                       (leans in and whispers)
                    I'm the janitor of God.

     JACK'S eyes widen.

     PARRY JUMPS UP, hops in the DUMPSTER, standing 'neath the CHUTE.

                                      PARRY
                    I was standing in here one evening...

                                      JACK
                       (can't help but ask)
                    Why?

                                      PARRY
                    I don't remember. Listen, you do
                    strange things when you live alone.
                    Are you married?
                       (JACK shakes his head)
                    Funny, you look married.

     JACK is more frightened by this remark than anything else.
     HE starts to inch his way casually toward the exit...

                                      PARRY
                    Anyway, I was standing here and all
                    of a sudden - I hear these voices -
                    And the more I listen, the louder they get.

     PARRY leans on the edge of the dumpster, staring at JACK.

                    ....And then I saw them Jack.
                    Hundreds of them. Flying around this room.
                    The tiniest - cutest little - FAT
                    people you ever saw...Well - I
                    had to blink! But they were still there.
                    And they told me that I had
                    been chosen for this special quest...
                    You know what they want me do, Jack?

     JACK freezes - afraid to hear.

     CAMERA CUTS TO A C.U. of PARRY, who smiles...

                    THEY want me to find the Holy
                    Grail for them.

     JACK's jaw drops slightly.

                    ...My reaction exactly. I mean,
                    you start getting requests from
                    little floating fat people who
                    tell you you're special, and you
                    wind up a mini-series - Am I right?
                    But then, at that very moment, there
                    was this tremendous RUMBLING sound...

     JACK shakes at PARRY'S description.

                    ..And they sent this message, FLYING
                       (indicating the GARBAGE CHUTE)...
                    RIGHT out of here and into my hands...

     HE hops out of the dumpster. JACK butts up against the boiler,
     banging his head on the metal - causing his hangover to escalate.

     PARRY squats down next to JACK - cornering him against the boiler.
     HE hands him an ARCHITECTURAL DIGEST. ....The cover picture is a
     A HANDSOME MIDDLE-AGED MAN standing in front of a NEW YORK
     TOWNHOUSE - which looks very much like the CASTLE-LIKE BUILDING
     on PARRY'S MURAL.  The caption reads -

                    BILLIONAIRE LANGSTON CARMICHAEL
                    ADDS A NEW CASTLE TO HIS KINGDOM

     PARRY quickly opens the magazine to the pictorial layout of the
     lavish interiors of CARMICHAEL'S TOWNHOUSE. The final page shows
     CARMICHAEL, a dashing bachelor in his fifties, standing in his
     private LIBRARY beside a GLASS COMODE. PARRY excitedly points
     to inside the COMODE, where a GOLDEN CHALICE sits in the BG.

                                      PARRY
                    Right there.

                                      JACK
                       (not getting it and not wanting to)
                    Yeah?

                                      PARRY
                    He's got it...He's got the Grail.

                                      JACK
                    Langston Carmichael? Really?

                                      PARRY
                       (smiles and nods)
                    I know! You can't imagine how surprised
                    I was. I mean who would think you
                    could find anything divine on
                    the Upper East Side.

                                      JACK
                       (LOSING HIS PATIENCE)
                    Wait a minute! You're telling me
                    the psychic dumpster told you
                    Langston Carmichael has The Holy Grail
                    sitting in a comode next to his humidore?

                         PARRY
               Yeah.  It's in his library on the-

                         JACK
               Listen, and I really don't mean
               to be flippant or to enrage you
               or anything, but I think you'd
               be spending you time a lot more
               wisely looking for your brain.
                    (hidden anger; forceful)
               I have to go now.

     JACK turns to crawl, but PARRY moves in front of him again.

                         PARRY
               Jack, please...I need your help.

     JACK decides to try and gain his footing, so he begins to inch
     his way up the boiler against his back.

                         PARRY
               See...there's this one other
               thing.  The Red Knight...

     JACK stops and reluctantly indicates the KNIGHT in the mural.

                         PARRY
               Well, I just drew that from my
               imagination.  I haven't actually
               met the guy...yet...
                    (little people)
               THEY tell me he's out there
               waiting for me, waiting till I
               get close and then he'll show
               himself.  See, it's either him
               or me.  He's been playing with
               me lately.  Those kids last night
               - they work for him.  He's got
               people like that all over the
               city.  Haven't you noticed all the
               crime lately.

                         JACK
               Crime?  In New York?  Really?

                         PARRY
               It's because I'm getting close,
               Jack.  That's why I need help.
               Somebody like you, somebody true.
               I'm getting close but...
                    (frightened)
               ...I don't think I could face him
               alone.
                    (smiles)
               So what do you say?

     JACK rises to his feet and the room spins.  HE slides down
     again.

                         JACK
                    (rubbing his head)
               Listen.  You're a very nice...very
               nice psychotic man.  I really
               appreciate what you did for me
               - you're a...it was a very brave
               and noble thing...

                         PARRY
               Oh, please...You're embarrassing
               me.

                         JACK
               But I can't help you...

     PARRY is about to speak when JACK jumps in first.

                                      JACK
                    ....so, once again....Thank you...
                       (extends his hand, forgetting his name)
                    Uh....?

                                      PARRY
                    Parry.

                                      JACK
                    Parry...I'm Jack.

                                      PARRY
                       (smiling broadly)
                    I know.

                                      JACK
                    You're a good person. Really. Thanks again.

     JACK quickly exits. PARRY smiles to himself.

                                      PARRY
                    Anytime.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. BROWNSTONE HALLWAY - MINUTES LATER.

     JACK steps out of what must be the entrance to the basement.
     HE walks down the hallway toward the front exit when suddenly
     an apartment door swings open. FRANK, a burly superintendent,
     steps into the hall.

                                      FRANK
                    Where you coming from!?

                                      JACK
                    Uh...basement I think...

                                      FRANK
                       (yells so PARRY can hear)
                    I TELL HIM NO VISITORS!

     JACK'S head sets off another explosion.

                                      JACK
                    Sorry..I..he brought me here last
                    night. I had no idea...

                                      WIFE (OC)
                    FFFFFRRRRAAANNNNNKKK! WHO IS AT THE DOOR?!

                                      FRANK
                    I'M TALKIN TO SOMEBODY! YA GOTTA
                    YELL LIKE A BANSHEE!

                                      WIFE (OC)
                    It's just my manner!

                                      FRANK
                       (hard of hearing)
                    WHAT!?

                                      WIFE (OC)
                    I SAID IT'S JUST MY MANNER!

     JACK'S head is now nearly split down the middle.

                                      FRANK
                    You a friend of Parry's?

                                      JACK
                    No...Is he supposed to live there?

                                      FRANK
                    Yeah well...I let him stay. I didn't
                    know what else to do - ya know, after
                    what happened?

                                      JACK
                    What happened?

                                      FRANK
                       (dying to tell)
                    Oh, such a tragedy. His wife was
                    at some bar with some friends, ya
                    know, after work - and some nut
                    came in with a shot-gun and blew
                    the place apart. You must have heard
                    about...the guy who listened to the radio.

     JACK goes numb. HE can't believe what he's hearing.

                    ...Anyway, his real name is Henry Sawyer
                    Used to be a teacher at Columbia.
                    Such a tragedy. People stink, I
                    swear to Christ.

     HE spits. JACK almost loses his stomach.

                                      FRANK
                       (talks a mile a minute)
                    ...He went nuts. I mean, who wouldn't.
                    She was a beautiful girl. They kept
                    him at this place for the mentally
                    upset in Staten Island. He didn't
                    speak-not a word. Then, all of a
                    sudden, he starts talkin - only
                    now, he's this Parry guy. He used to live here
                    with his wife, so when he got released
                    they sent him here. I felt bad.
                    He couldn't work. So I let him stay
                    downstairs. He helps out, I give
                    him a couple of dollars. People
                    throw things away, he keeps them.
                       (suddenly, toward basement)
                    BUT HE'S NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE VISITORS!

                                      JACK
                       (leans against wall)
                    My God.

                                      FRANK
                    You all right?..
                       (JACK nods)
                    Listen, don't mention any of this
                    to him though. He doesn't remember
                    about being married and all, and
                    if you talk about it, he gets
                    kinda confused.

                                      JACK
                    Sure...
                       (sits on step)
                    Can I just sit here a minute?

                                      FRANK
                    Sure. You look kinda lime colored.

                                      WIFE (OC)
                    FRRRAAANNK!

     FRANK turns and yells back at his wife as he enters the apartment-

                                      FRANK
                    YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME COMMIT MURDER,
                    I SWEAR TO CHRIST!

     HE slams the door. JACK sits alone, trying to put all this
     information in perspective.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S OFFICE - DAY.

     ANNE sits at a desk surrounded by shelves of porno tapes. Upon
     the desk, piles of various films, orders, reciepts, etc...
     JACK sits before her.

                                      ANNE
                    Listen. I understand open relationships.
                    Please. I was a teenager in the sixties,
                    after all. But when you care about
                    somebody, you need more than an open relationship.
                    Ya need a phone call...Ya need to pick
                    up the phone and tell me you're not
                    dead...that you haven't been attacked
                    or raped or who knows...I sat upstairs
                    all night worried sick. Look at you!

                                      JACK
                    I'm sorry.

                                      ANNE
                    I can't tell you how distraught I was.
                    What happened? Where were you?

                                      JACK
                    I was attacked.

     ANNE is about to respond when the buzzer on her phone rings.

                                      ANNE
                    WHAT?

                                      EMPLOYEE (OC)
                    Guy here wants to check out the pornos.

                                      ANNE
                    SO, send him back!

     A moment later, a meek fifty-ish BUSINESS MAN enters, smiling
     sheepishly. ANNE indicates the walls. HE nods and proceeds to
     make a selection, trying not to feel awkward or in the
     spotlight. ANNE turns back to JACK. SHE sniffs the air.

                                      ANNE
                    I smell gas! What do you mean you
                    were attacked last night?

                                      JACK
                    These..kids tried to...set me on fire.

                                      ANNE
                    OH MY GOD!...What did they do? Are you O.K.?

     SHE crosses to JACK and puts her arms around him. The BUSINESSMAN,
     having overheard, pauses to watch. Embarrassed, JACK indicates to
     ANNE that he feels awkward being hugged in front of this man. ANNE
     confronts the BUSINESSMAN abruptly, with as little tact as possible.

                                      ANNE
                    Are you almost done, or what?

                                      MAN
                       (flustered)
                    Well...

                                      ANNE
                    I mean, whatta looking for - a story!?
                       (makes a selection)
                    Here...CREAMER VERSUS CREAMER..It won
                    an award.

     JACK hides his face so as not to laugh.

                                      BUSINESSMAN
                       (mortified)
                    Thank you..that'll be fine...

     THE BUSINESSMAN exits. ANNE sits on her desk in front of JACK.

                                      ANNE
                    Uch...These people....
                    So, you were attacked. My God.
                    But you're all right...
                       (now to more important matters)
                    So where did you sleep last night?

                                      JACK
                    I...I stayed at a friends. Listen, I-

                                      ANNE
                       (puts up her hand)
                    Please...before you go on...
                    let me tawk...o.k...We've had a
                    wonderful time together...
                    even though there's a
                    year age difference, the wrong way..
                    When we first met, you said
                    this wasn't serious and I shouldn't
                    get serious and then you moved in
                    and we haven't been serious. And
                    I just wanna say that I
                    have no regrets. None. And don't
                    wanna have any now so I want
                    ya to be up front with me..
                    I want the truth. If your seein
                    somebody else, let me know...
                    You don't have to pour gasoline
                    on yourself and light a match
                    just to stop seeing me.
                    I'll say God bless and we'll
                    part ways...just tell me the truth.

     JACK looks to her - somewhat admiring the bravery and integrity
     underneath the Brooklynese.

                                      JACK
                    I'm not seeing anyone else.
                    I really was attacked.

                                      ANNE
                    O.K.

     HE nods. SHE struts to her desk without a second thought. That's
     all she wanted to know so she immediately changes the conversation.

                                      ANNE
                    ...I love you....
                       (JACK smiles weakly)
                    ...You don't have to say it back...
                    although it wouldn't kill you.
                    I'll cook tonight.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S APARTMENT ABOVE THE STORE - NIGHT.

     If ever an apartment reflected it's inhabitant, surely this
     is one. ANNE seems to have successfully transplanted 1960's
     middle-class Italian to 1980's Manhattan - red and gold adorn
     the sofa and curtains.

     ANNE and JACK sit around a formica kitchen table in silence
     after eating dinner. ANNE smokes a cigarette.

                                      ANNE
                    You sure you don't want to call
                    the police?

                                      JACK
                    No...I don't think I could explain.
                    You know what the Holy Grail is?

     ANNE takes a long drag then puts it out in her leftover food.
     JACK is repelled by the habit.

                                      ANNE
                    The Holy Grail? Yeah...I know that.
                    It was like - Jesus' juice glass.
                       (JACK just stares at her)
                    Oh, I used to be such a Catholic.

                                      JACK
                    You still believe in God?

                                      ANNE
                    Oh sure..Gotta believe in God.
                       (trying to be intellectual)
                    But I don't think God made man
                    in his own image. No. Cause most of
                    ... the bullshit that happens,
                    is because of men. No, I think
                    man was made out of the
                    devil's image and women were created
                    out of God - because women
                    can have babies which is sorta
                    like creating, and which also
                    explains why women are attracted
                    to men, because, lets face it,
                    the devil is a helluva lot more
                    interesting - I slept with a few
                    saints and let me tell you...
                    BOOOORRING!!! ...And so the whole
                    point of life, I think, is for men and
                    women to get married so the
                    devil and God can live together
                    and, ya know - work it out.....

     ANNE moves to him and leans in for a kiss.

                    .....Not that we have to get married.

     JACK notices a brown spot on her chin and pulls away.

                                      JACK
                    ... You have a little...uh...
                    something on your face...

                                      ANNE
                    Oh, I got a pimple..This stuff is supposed
                    to blend with my skin color...
                    Like it really works, ya know...

     JACK moves to the bar to fix a drink. ANNE follows him and
     takes the drink out of his hand. JACK knows what this means.

                                      JACK
                    I don't think I'm up to it tonight..
                       (ANNE massages his shoulders)
                    I slept in a boiler room...I...

     ANNE nods but keeps massaging. As long as he wasn't with a woman,
     he could have knocked over a jewelery store and she would have the
     same reaction. HER massaging gets more intense - moving up his
     head and contorting his face as he speaks.

                                      JACK
                    I think I'm getting sick...
                       (trying to be forceful)
                    I'm...just not in the mood!..O.K!

     ANNE grabs his face with both hands and pulls him into a kiss.
     SHE proceeds to climb onto his body as she utilizes a skill
     she picked up in high school make-out parties. SHE is a pro. JACK,
     against all his better judgement and will - despite the pimple
     cream - is rendered helpless by this woman's passion...He returns
     the embrace and guides her to the floor.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S LIVING ROOM - MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT.

     JACK sits in his underwear on the living room floor in front of an
     open closet with a cardboard box between his legs. The box is
     filled with TAPES OF JACK'S PAST RADIO SHOWS. HE begins to sort
     through them...reading titles, remembering moments...then stops.
     The memories hurt. HE dumps the box back into the closet and
     moves to the bar as ANNE exits the bedroom. SHE stands in the
     doorway.

                                      ANNE
                    Whatsa matter hon - can't sleep?

     HE doesn't answer as he pours a drink. ANNE sees the radio tapes.

                    ...Honey?

                                      JACK
                    I tell you something, Anne.
                    I really feel like I'm cursed.

                                      ANNE
                    Oh stop. Things will change. My Aunt Mary
                    always said, there's a remedy
                    for everything in this world
                    except death and having no class.

                                      JACK
                    That's just what it feels
                    like. A curse. I can't seem to...
                    I get this feeling like I'm
                    this magnet but I attract shit.
                       (PAUSE)
                    Out of all the people in this city,
                    why did I meet a man who's wife I killed?

                                      ANNE
                    You didn't kill anybody. Stop.

                                      JACK
                    I wish there was some way I could..
                    just...pay the fine and go home.
                       (eyes fill with tears)

     ANNE crosses to JACK and gently touches him. JACK turns and
     clutches her to him tightly. Lowering his head to hers, he cries...

                                      ANNE
                    I know. I know honey.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. PARRY'S BASEMENT - THE NEXT DAY.

     JACK is alone in the basement.

                                      JACK
                    Anybody here?..Uh...Parry?

     HE slowly walks around the room - picking up little items
     here and there, as if trying to discover some clue to PARRY.

     HE crosses to the dumpster. HE looks at the CHUTE. HE figures,
     "what the hell"...

                                      JACK
                       (to the chute)
                    Hey there!

                                      VOICE (OC)
                    YEAH - Can I help you?

     JACK, startled, turns around - to find FRANK standing at boiler.

                                      JACK
                    Oh, it's you...I'm...just looking
                    for Parry...

                                      FRANK
                    He's not here.
                       (beat)
                    Ya mind my asking what your doing
                    with this guy - I mean, you seem
                    like a regular person.

                                      JACK
                    I'm sort of...an old acquaintance of
                    his wife's.

     FRANK throws garbage in the dumpster as he speaks:

                                      FRANK
                    Oh. Beautiful woman...

                                      JACK
                    Yeah...I guess, there's nothing of
                    hers' here, huh?

                                      FRANK
                    No. I got that stuff upstairs.
                    The hospital said it'd be better.

     JACK looks to the mural, then back at FRANK.

                                      JACK
                    Can I see it?

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. FRANK'S APARTMENT.

     C.U. DUFFEL BAG OF PARRY'S THINGS before JACK.

     JACK looks through the items: various textbooks entitled "MYTH
     AND LEGEND", "HERO WITH A THOUSAND FACES"...a masters degree
     in Mythology...Another in Romance Literature...A torn picture
     with PARRY standing near a bar-be-que with an apron that reads-
     FIRST ANNUAL DOG BAR-BE-QUE...a man's wedding ring...a
     beautiful photographic portrait of PARRY'S WIFE.

                                      FRANK
                    She was a beautiful girl...He
                    was crazy about her.

     JACK looks at the photograph.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. GREAT JONES ALLEY - DAY.

     The BLACK, the IRISHMAN and the HIPPY are in their usual
     place. THEY lean against the wall, observing the afternoon
     life that walks by. JACK enters the scene and asks them where
     PARRY is. The HIPPY begins to speak and points to his right.
     JACK nods in appreciation and hands them a couple of dollars.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. CORNER OUTSIDE OFFICE BUILDING - LATER THAT DAY.

     JACK sees PARRY from across the street; waiting near a hot dog
     vendor and eyeing the entrance to a midtown office building.
     JACK approaches.

                                      JACK
                    Parry?

     PARRY turns and smiles, acting as if he knew JACK would come.

                                      JACK
                       (reaching into his pocket)
                    Hi. Listen, I thought maybe you could use-...

                                      PARRY
                    Sshhh.

     HE pulls JACK to his side. THEY sit on the hood of a parked
     car and watch the entrance to the office building.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. ENTRANCE OFFICE BUILDING.

     Several business men and women, secretaries, etc...make their
     way out for lunch. Among them is PARRY'S damsel in distress:
     LYDIA - a dowdy, waif-like sparrow of a thing, who waits for
     several more aggressive co-workers to pass through the
     revolving doors before she gets up enough nerve to go herself.

                                      PARRY
                    Isn't she a vision?

     "A VISION" is not exactly the phrase that would come to mind in
     describing LYDIA - torturously self-conscious, painfully shy,
     clumsy, formless, plain - these are much more in keeping with
     LYDIA'S persona. SHE wears loose frocks that give her no
     figure and make her appear to be swimming in material..SHE
     wears no make-up; her stringy unstyled hair is kept in place by
     a beret that keeps sliding off her head and her contact lens are
     always dry, causing her to constantly blink and use eye drops.

                                      PARRY
                    Let's go.

                                      JACK
                    NO...wait, really. I just wanted to give you...

     JACK pulls out some money, but PARRY is off camera.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. CHINESE RESTAURANT - DAY.

     Behind the glassed-in exterior, we can see LYDIA sitting by
     herself eating lunch. CAMERA PANS OUT TO STREET where PARRY and
     JACK are sitting on the hood of another car, watching.

                                      PARRY
                    She's loves dumplings. It's
                    her Wednesday ritual.

     LYDIA raises a dumpling to her lips with a pair of chopsticks.
     SHE then accidentally drops it into a dish of soy sauce and
     splatters her dress. Unnerved, she hastily wipes herself down
     knocking over a water glass when she removes the napkin.

                                      PARRY
                    Isn't she sweet? She does that everytime.

     JACK squints at LYDIA as if trying to see what PARRY sees.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. BOOK STORE - DAY.

     JACK and PARRY have followed LYDIA into a book store. SHE stands
     browsing through romance novels. THEY watch from a safe distance.

                                      PARRY
                    She buys a new book every two days.

     LYDIA reads the cover of a book entitled, LOVES' LUSTY LONGINGS.

                                      PARRY
                       (smiles, says with great affection)
                    She's into trash. Whadda you gonna do?

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. STREET - DAY.

     PARRY and JACK are following LYDIA, when she stops at a news stand.

                                      PARRY
                    She's got a real sweet tooth. If
                    anybody ever told me I'd be in
                    love with a woman who eats
                    Jawbreakers, I'd said they
                    were nuts.
                       (reverentially)
                    But look at that jaw!

     JACK doesn't want to look. If the Little People made PARRY seem
     crazy, this infatuation confirms him as beyond hope.

     LYDIA buys some candy then turns and walks back toward her
     office building, once again waiting her turn to dive into
     the revolving doors. SHE disappears into the building.

                                      JACK
                    Do you follow her every day?

                                      PARRY
                    Huh-huh. I'm deeply smitten.

                                      JACK
                    What's her name?

                                      PARRY
                    I don't know.

     Things are sounding weird again, so JACK seizes the moment to
     accomplish his initial task - he pulls out a fifty dollar bill
     and hands it to PARRY.

                                      PARRY
                    What's this for?

                                      JACK
                    Uh...I just would like to help
                    you. I thought...maybe...you
                    could use some money.

                                      PARRY
                    Tch...isn't that nice of you.
                    Awww...

     HE hugs him on the street which embarasses JACK to no end.

                    ...What a nice thing to do...

                                      JACK
                       (pulling away)
                    That's O.K.

                                      PARRY
                    Can I take you to lunch?

                                      JACK
                    No..I have to get back to work.
                    Take care of yourself.

     JACK walks away. CAMERA stays on JACK for a few yards until he
     turns around and sees:

     PARRY handing the fifty to a bum in a doorway.

                                      JACK
                    HEY!!...HEY!

     JACK walks back to PARRY, who is explaining to the bum:

                                      BUM
                       (LOUD gibberish)
                    FUCKKAMAL...BASTAA..NOCOIDETION...

                                      PARRY
                       (as if he understands)
                    Well, I think you should be realistic.
                    Ya can't start an ad agency on fifty dollars!

                                      JACK
                    What are you doing? I gave that
                    to you.

                                      PARRY
                    Well what am I gonna do with it?

                                      JACK
                    I don't know. But I gave it to
                    you...to help YOU...not him.

     PARRY thinks a moment - staring at JACK, then smiling.

                                      PARRY
                    You really want to help me?

     A wary JACK, who's afraid to reply.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. LANGSTON CARMICHAEL'S TOWNHOUSE - DAY.

     On the Upper East Side, PARRY and JACK stand across the
     tree-lined street from the five million dollar townhouse.

                                      PARRY
                    I read there's an alarm system
                    on the doors and windows but there
                    IS a skylight on the roof - so
                    I think that would be the best
                    way. What do you think?

                                      JACK
                    You can't just break into this man's
                    house. This man has done nothing.

                                      PARRY
                    Jack, I have to get...

                                      JACK
                    All right! Listen - please...don't
                    start drooling or...rolling your eyes
                    when I tell you this but - You shouldn't
                    do this..There is no Holy Grail.

                                      PARRY
                    Tch. You are so sweet.
                    You're afraid I'm in danger.
                    You're trying to protect me.

                                      JACK
                    No. I think you're a moron and
                    I don't want to get into trouble.

     Ignoring this, PARRY gets filled with emotion and hugs JACK.

                                      PARRY
                    ...You are such a great guy. First
                    the fifty, now this.

                                      JACK
                       (pulling away)
                    Please don't hug me in public again, O.K.?

                                      PARRY
                       (shouts)
                    I LOVE THIS MAN...YA HEAR ME...

                                      JACK
                    My God...

                                      PARRY
                    I'M DAFFY ABOUT THIS GUY AND
                    I DON'T CARE WHO KNOWS IT!!!

     An COUPLE pass by, obviously not wanting to know it.

                                      JACK
                    Will you shut-up!!!

                                      PARRY
                    You're a true friend.

                                      JACK
                    I'm not. Believe me. I'm scum.

                                      PARRY
                    You're a real honest to goodness
                    good guy.

                                      JACK
                    I'm self-centered, I'm weak - I don't
                    have the will power of a fly on shit...

                                      PARRY
                    That's why the Little People sent you.

                                      JACK
                    I don't believe in Little People.
                    I used to try to kill
                    Tinkerbell by not clapping.

                                      PARRY
                    So, you're going to help me get
                    the Red Knight, aren't you?

                                      JACK
                    WILL YOU PLEASE...please listen to me
                       (HE GRABS PARRY by the shoulders)
                    You know none of this is true -
                    the Grail, the Little People, all
                    of it. There's a part of you that
                    knows this isn't true.

                                      PARRY
                       (smiling, but getting upset)
                    Jack...

                                      JACK
                    I know who you are...or who you were.
                    You don't belong on the streets. You're
                    an intelligent man...you're a teacher...

     PARRY breaks away from him.  HE looks completely disoriented
     and confused. HE keeps looking around, not meeting JACK'S eyes.

                                      PARRY
                    You're acting really weird Jack.

                                      JACK
                    Parry..or what ever your name is...
                    Let me help you. (beat).
                    THERE - IS - NO - RED-KNIGHT!

     PARRY looks over JACK'S shoulder, and smiles - almost relieved:

                                      PARRY
                    Oh yeah? Then who do you call that?

     JACK turns to look in the direction of PARRY'S glance. HE
     sees nothing.

                                      JACK
                    Call who!?

                                                      CUT TO:

     CLOSE-UP PARRY.

                                                      CUT TO:

     PARRY'S P.O.V;

     A MAGNIFCENT BURNISHED RED STEED STANDS IN THE INTERSECTION OF
     5TH AVENUE AND 74TH STREET. ON TOP OF HIM, SITS THE RED KNIGHT -
     A HELMETED FIGURE IN A FLOWING RED CAPE, HOLDING A LANCE. HE
     STARES BACK AT PARRY.

                                                      CUT BACK TO:

     PARRY, taking a step forward.

                                      PARRY
                    God he's beautiful...He knows
                    I'm close to it. He's afraid. I can tell.

                                      JACK (OC)
                    You're totally gone, aren't you?

                                                      CUT TO:

     THE RED KNIGHT

     HE pulls the reins back, forcing the horse up onto it's hind legs.
     Then, he gallops off.

                                                      CUT TO:

     PARRY and JACK.

                                      PARRY
                    COME ON!!!

     PARRY runs O.C. in the direction of the knight. JACK is not about
     to follow, until he sees - PARRY run right into the intersection
     and almost gets hit by a cab.

                                      JACK
                    Jesus.

     JACK runs after him.

                                                      CUT TO:

     EXT. THE CORNER Of FIFTH AVE. and 74TH. - DAY.

     PARRY reaches where the RED KNIGHT stood and looks.

                                                      CUT TO:

     THE RED KNIGHT riding onto the sidewalk and jumping over a stone
     wall into Central Park.

                                                      CUT TO:

     PARRY, as JACK reaches him.

                                      JACK
                    What is going o-

     Before he can finish, PARRY is off again. JACK races after him.
     THEY climb the wall and run into the park. THEY dodge past women
     with strollers, runners, bikers, sun worshippers, etc....
     THEY run deep into an extremely woody section of Central Park.
     Trees and foliage surround them.

     PARRY stops suddenly. Panting, JACK catches up.

                                      JACK
                    Oh...Oh...Oh God...I'm dying.
                    I can't breath and I'm dying.

                                      PARRY
                    Ssshhh.

     HE looks around - past the trees, as if trying to see through
     them - but sees nothing.

                                      PARRY
                    He's gone.

                                      JACK
                       (HE'S had it!)
                    WHO! WHO'S GONE?!! WHO HAVE WE BEEN
                    CHASING!?? CAN I ASK THIS QUESTION NOW!!!

                                      PARRY
                    I'm sorry Jack. I thought you saw him.

                                      JACK
                    SAW WHO!!?

                                      PARRY
                       (excited)
                    The Red Knight! The horse! I finally saw him!

     JACK'S face fades into disappointment. HE heads through the
     trees to the road, as he talks; PARRY follows.

                                      JACK
                    That's it! I gave you the money you
                    want to keep it fine, you want
                    to give it away - fine.
                       (looks up to the heavens)
                    I JUST WANT YOU TO KNOW, I DID
                    GIVE HIM THE MONEY! O.K.! ARE WE CLEAR?!

     At that moment, a BUSINESSMAN walking down the road witnesses
     JACK'S declaration to empty air. PARRY gets embarassed.

                                      PARRY
                       (whispers)
                    Jack, who are you talking to?
                       (he looks around)
                    Are THEY here?

     JACK looks at him with murder in his eyes.

                                      JACK
                    Who?
                       (sarcastic)
                    The Little Persons?

                                      PARRY
                       (nods)
                    Can you hear them now?

                         JACK
                    (patronizing him)
               Yeah, I hear them.  And they're
               saying to me "Jack, go unto the
               liquor store and findeth the Jack
               of Daniels that ye may be
               shitfaced.  DOOLANG...DOOLANG..."

                         PARRY
                    (hearing something else)
               Do you hear THAT?

     Frustrated, JACK turns to leave but this time there is a sound -
     someone is crying.  Someone close by.  PARRY follows the cries
     OC.

                         JACK
               This is too hard.

     A reluctant JACK follows him.

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. CENTRAL PARK - DAY

     The park's bridle path.  A BEATEN MAN cries as he sits in the
     middle of the bridle path - mumbling to himself incoherently.
     HE is drunk.  His manner and voice portray him as a gay man at
     the end of his rope.  There are cuts above his forehead.  His
     leather jacket and jeans are covered with stains.  PARRY kneels
     beside him.

                         GAY BUM
               GET AWAY!  I WANNA GO!  I WANNA
               GO NOW!

                         PARRY
               Hey...Come on, we'll help you up.
               You can't sit here.

                         GAY BUM
               NO!  I want a debutante on a horse
               to step on me.

                         JACK
                    (wanting to leave)
               Parry...

                         PARRY
               Buddy, the days of the debutantes
               are...not what they used to be.

                         GAY BUM
                    (starts to cry)
               Isn't that awful?  Poor Brenda
               Frazier.  Poor Little Gloria.
               They ruined them!  THEY ATE THEM
               ALIVE!

                         PARRY
                    (helping him up)
               It was a crime.

                         GAY BUM
               Leave me alone...I wanna go...

     PARRY lifts him up - he looks to JACK for help.

                         PARRY
               Will you get the other side.
                    (JACK hesitates)
               Jack?

     The man's cuts and suicidal demeanor turn JACK off.

                         JACK
               Listen, he just needs to sleep
               it off.  Someone will take care
               of him.

                         PARRY
               Who?

                         JACK
               Well, maybe he wants to stay here.
                    (to bum)
               Do...do you want to stay here?

                         GAY BUM
                    (suddenly lucid and
                     pissy)
               Oh, yes, thank you - I really love
               bleeding in horseshit.  How very
               Gandhiesque of you.

     PARRY looks to JACK, who then begrudgingly helps the BUM to his
     feet.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. BELLEVUE EMERGENCY ROOM - LATER

     In a room at the end of the line of chairs, PARRY sits next to
     the GAY BUM.  JACK stands a safe distance away, unable to take
     his eyes off the scene before him.  Seated against the wall are
     an assortment of derelicts, drunks, screaming withdrawal victims
     and jacketed schizophrenics.  JACK has a hard time moving.

                         PARRY
                    (to JACK, referring to
                     GAY BUM)
               Will you watch him for a minute?

     Before JACK can respond, PARRY is up and about - introducing
     himself to the various patients as JACK watches on.

     PARRY moving down the line...saying hello, wiping people's
     brows, holding the hands of an angry bag lady mumbling
     incoherently.

     What seems extraordinary to JACK is the soothing affect PARRY
     seems to have on them.

     JACK, somewhat inspired.  HE tries to communicate to the GAY
     BUM.

                         BUM
               I wanna go...just let me go...

                         JACK
               Uh...Where...where do you want
               to go?

                         BUM
                    (upset)
               Ah...can't get there.  Not tonight.

                         JACK
                    (being positive)
               Well, maybe you can.  Where do
               you want to go?

                         BUM
               Venice.  Like Katherine Hepburn
               in SUMMERTIME.
                    (JACK is speechless)
               Why can't I be Katherine Hepburn?
                    (cries again)

                         JACK
                    (trying to make
                     conversation)
               Well...What ...what did you do?
               You know, what...were you?

                         GAY BUM
                    (enjoying talking about
                     himself)
               I was a singer.  Ya know, stage...
               summer stock...God.
                    (disgusted)
               I could do CABARET - backwards
               - every part.  But what does it
               all mean?

     HE genuinely asks.  JACK is at a loss, his expression obviously
     replying "nothing."  The GAY BUM regains his sarcasm for a
     moment.

                         GAY BUM
                    (eyebrow raised)
               You know, you always have such
               a cheerful effect on me.
                    (cries again)
               I wanna die...I just wanna...
               die...

     JACK, against all better judgement, pats the BUM'S hand in
     comfort.  The BUM leans his head on JACK'S shoulder and cries.

     JACK, wide-eyed with embarassment, looks over to PARRY -

     POV

     PARRY is now playing charades with a STREET BUM, A YOUNG MAN
     IN A STRAIGHT JACKET, and a BAGLADY who is arguing to herself.
     PARRY is trying to be PINNOCHIO, by miming a long nose...

                         BUM
                    (guessing)
               HORN...A HORN...

     THE YOUNG MAN in the straight jacket just looks on in wonder.

                         BAG LADY
                    (talking to herself)
               Where the hell am I gonna put the
               children?  Goddamn daughter-in-law!
               Comes into my house looking for
               dustballs!

     PARRY mimes the loose movements of a marionette...

                         BUM
               Thorazine!

                                             CUT BACK TO:

     JACK, who turns his attention back to the bum, takes a deep
     sigh, and eases his arm around the despairing GAY MAN.  HE sits
     patiently.

                         BAG LADY (O.C.)
               PINNOCHIO...GODDAMN IT!

     After a moment, PARRY rushes by JACK.

                         PARRY
               Come on, Jack.  We're going to
               be late.  It's almost five!

     Before JACK can ask why, PARRY is already out the door,
     YELLING...

               ...Hurry up!  We'll miss her!

                         JACK
                    (whispers to BUM)
               Um...I've got to run.  I've been
               doing this all day.  Are you going
               to be all right?

     The BUM sits up, sniffling, with a "stiff upper lip" attitude:

                         GAY BUM
               Please - I was born a Catholic
               in Brooklyn...I've been to hell
               and I survived...It's O.K...

     JACK nods and rises, when the BUM adds quite sincerely:

               ...Thanks...You're a gem.

     JACK nods, a little self-consciously, and exits.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. GRAND CENTRAL STATION - RUSH HOUR

     PARRY and JACK sit on the floor enjoying a cup of coffee.  A
     KOREAN VET in a wheelchair with no legs sits near the opposite
     wall, along with at least fifteen other homeless beggers.
     Another MAN sits against a cash machine, crying.  A WOMAN passes
     by and drops some change in the VET's cup without saying a word.
     The VET smiles broadly and says - GOD BLESS - HAVE A NICE DAY!

                         JACK
               You'll never see her in this
               crowd.

                         PARRY
               She walks the same trail every
               day.  Just keep your eyes on the
               newsstand.

     JACK looks to the newsstand, doesn't understand, then looks
     away.  HE watches as a BUSINESSMAN drops some change into the
     VET'S cup.

                         JACK
                    (referring to
                     "change-droppers")
               They don't even look at him.

                         PARRY
                    (smiles)
               They're paying so they don't have
               to look.

                         JACK
               Poor guy.  What must he feel?

                         PARRY
               Grateful.  His name's Sid.  Great
               guy.  Says everyday he can sit
               in the middle of Grand Central
               and watch the rush hour, he's
               won...I mean, you have to admit...

     PARRY smiles and looks around the mobs rushing through Grand
     Central.

               Life at 5:00 in Grand Central...
               it's pretty breathtaking.  Don't
               you think?

     JACK is impressed by PARRY'S interpretation...and by the VET'S
     seeming good nature in the face of his situation.

     JACK looks around this mad rush hour scene, as if trying to see
     it as PARRY does.

     WE CUT to the various sizes and shapes of people hurrying home,
     stopping to buy a paper, talking with their co-workers, the
     colors, the sights, the sounds...

     OFF CAMERA a WOMAN begins to sing.  JACK and PARRY turn to look.
     PARRY smiles with great respect.

                         PARRY
               Margaret.

                                             CUT TO:

     MARGARET, A BLACK WOMAN in a paisley kaften, stands near a photo
     lab across from JACK and PARRY.  With a box in front of her for
     donations, she starts singing..YOU MAKE ME FEEL LIKE A NATURAL
     WOMAN."  Some rush hour commutors stop to listen.  HER VOICE
     is strong and soulful, she performs uninhibitedly.

     WE PAN around the faces of the business crowd listening to
     MARGARET - looking grateful for the opportunity to stop their
     day for a moment and listen.

     JACK'S sitting on the floor of Grand Central - beside a crippled
     VET and a row of beggers, listening to a woman singing for
     quarters, and suddenly feels almost happy; for the first time
     in a while, he's stopped to look around and finds he is not
     alone - but a part of a small group of tired people like
     himself; listening to a woman bare her soul in song.  HE turns
     to PARRY and finds him staring in the other direction.  JACK
     looks.

                                             CUT TO:

     LYDIA...going home from work.  SHE moves with the crowd, as if
     totally without her own will, looking through her handbag for
     her token.  SHE walks into the newspaper stand PARRY had pointed
     out.

                         IRANIAN NEWSSTAND OWNER
               WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!!  EVERY
               DAY, EVERY DAY YOU KNOCK OVER THE
               FUCKIN' PAPERS...

     A mortified LYDIA makes a hasty exit.  PARRY watches in
     adoration.

                         PARRY
               God.  Just one night with her.
               I'd die happy.

     JACK hears this as if a light bulb went off above his head.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. LYDIA'S APARTMENT - LATER THAT NIGHT

     A door opens.  LYDIA enters with a bag of groceries she picked
     up on the way.  SHE turns on the light to reveal an extremely
     neat, albeit modest, one bedroom apartment.  SHE carries the
     grocery bag into the kitchen.

     Out of the bag, SHE removes a LEAN CUISINE; a giant bottle of
     Cream Soda and four giant bars of CHUNKY chocolate.  SHE pops
     the LEAN CUISINE into the oven and walks back into the living
     room to an old stereo.  SHE turns the turntable on - a record
     already set upon it.  She stands by her coffee table, as if
     taking position:

     SUDDENLY, WE HEAR ETHEL MERMAN - AS LYDIA LIP-SYNCS EVERY WORD WI
     COMMITMENT - GIVING A FULL OUT PERFORMANCE.

                         ETHEL/LYDIA
               GOT NO SUNSHINE, GOT NO RAIN
               STILL I THINK I'M A LUCKY DAME
               I GOT THE SUN IN THE MORNING
               AND THE MOON AT NIGHT....

     HER attempts at hand gestures and choreography are awkward -
     bunking into the coffee table, banging her hand against a lamp,
     but we see a part of LYDIA that few (actually no one) sees.
     HER abandon, her joy...her smile.

     From upstairs, THE NEIGHBORS bang to keep the music down.

     LYDIA casually crosses to the stereo, turns off the turntable
     and heads back to the kitchen - as if the neighbors interference
     were all a part of her nightly ritual.

                                             CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S APARTMENT - SAME EVENING

     ANNE sits alone at her fomica table, smoking a cigarette.  Two
     plates are set.  SHE waits for JACK.  SHE is hurt and pissed
     off.  TONY ORLANDO AND DAWN play on her stereo.

                         TONY ORLANDO
               KNOCK THREE TIMES...ON THE CEILING
               IF YOU WANT ME...TWICE ON THE PIPE

     The song continues as the CAMERA slowly pans up to close-up of
     ANNE, Who is fighting with an imaginary JACK.

                         ANNE
               Ya fuckin' bastard.  I don't need
               this...
                    (emphasizing)
               ...I Do Not Need This!  A woman
               my age...I am a person.  This is
               kid stuff.  You come!  You go!
               And all I do is cook like a jerk!
               You're a waste of good cutlets...I
               don't need this...Find yourself
               another dope...ya fuckin'
               bastard...

     SHE takes a puff off her cigarette and sings along with TONY
     -trying, in vain, to cheer herself up.

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. CENTRAL PARK'S GREAT LAWN - SAME NIGHT

     JACK is helping PARRY lay out nets beneath an oak tree.

                         PARRY
               This is a very popular tree with
               the crack dealers.

                         JACK
               What I don't understand is - so
               you catch them in a net - what
               good is that?  They don't go to
               jail.

                         PARRY
               Jails are crowded.  The way I
               think is...if you can just...annoy
               them on a regular basis...let them
               know there are forces out there
               that are out to stop them - forces
               they can't see or even fight...
               maybe, eventually, they'll give
               up and the Red Knight won't be
               able to use them.

     JACK was following this philosophy with great interest until
     the mention of the Red Knight.

                         JACK
                    (cutting him off)
               Yeah, yeah, yeah...right - but,
               why...not just go after
               Carmichael.  I mean, call the
               police, call the newspapers - put
               some pressure on him to fork up
               the uh...ya know...the cup.

     PARRY changes the subject.

                         PARRY
               What a beautiful night.

     HE walks deeper into the open field.  This makes JACK nervous.

                         JACK
               Don't you think we should be
               getting out of here - it's getting
               late...

     PARRY starts to take off his clothes.

                         JACK
               ...What are you doing?

                         PARRY
               Have you ever done any
               cloudbusting?  See, you take your
               clothes off, you lie on your back
               and you concentrate on staring
               at the clouds...and you try to
               break them apart with your mind.
               It's wild.

     He is now naked.  HE lies down.

                         JACK
               Parry, you can't do this.  It's
               dangerous.

                         PARRY
               Well, that's stupid.  This is my
               park just as much as it is theirs.
               You think it's fair they keep us
               out just because they make us
               think we'll get killed or
               something?

                         JACK
               Yes.  I think that's very fair.

                         PARRY
               Come on, try it.  Ya feel the air
               on your body - ya little fella's
               flappin' in the breeze...everybody
               in the city is busy with their
               business an no one knows we're
               bare assed in the middle of it.
               Come on!

                         JACK
               NO!  I'm leaving!  I mean it...this
               is nuts.
                    (walking O.C.)
               You're going to get yourself
               killed.  I'm leaving.  I mean it!

     JACK starts walking away from PARRY, talking to himself...

               Ha...little fella?  I mean,
               what do I expect?  The man talks
               to invisible people - he sees
               invisible horses - and he's naked
               in the middle of Central Park.
               I should be surprised.  I'm
               fucking out of my mind to even
               be here!
                    (turns back and yells)
               YOU'RE OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND!!

     HE walks O.C.

                                             CUT TO:

     EXT. GREAT LAWN - TEN MINUTES LATER.

     JACK, naked, is lying next to PARRY looking up at the clouds.

                         JACK
               They're not moving.

                         PARRY
               Sshhh.

     THEY stare up.  JACK raises his head.

                         JACK
               You sure no one's coming?

                         PARRY
               Why do you care?

                         JACK
               I don't know how I would explain
               this.  "JACK LUCAS FOUND DEAD NAKED
               - BESIDE ANOTHER DEAD, NAKED
               MAN...THE TWO WERE DEAD...AND
               NAKED"...It'll probably boost my
               biography sales.  People have a
               fascination for murdered naked
               celebrities.

                         PARRY
               You're a celebrity?

     JACK realizes his opportunity.  HE faces PARRY.

                         JACK
               Listen...it was a little over a
               year ago...Something happened...
               I...
                    (with great difficulty)
               I caused...I was responsible for--

                         PARRY
               Man, you are wound up so tight,
               Jack.  I venture to say if I stuck
               a coil up your ass I could roast
               marshmellows.  You oughta relax
               a bit.

                         JACK
                    (heartfelt)
               How do you do it?  How do you get
               through every day the way you do?

                         PARRY
               Did you ever here the story of
               the Fisher King?

     JACK shakes his head.  CAMERA focuses on PARRY.

                         PARRY
               It's all about this king who lived
               in the castle where the Holy Grail
               was kept.  Now this king was a
               good man, but he'd been through
               some awful times - tragedies,
               betrayals, disappointments,
               abandonment...So much so, that
               the older he...got, the more
               bitter about life he became...

                                             CUT TO:

     JACK, listening...

               ...He had no faith in any man.
               No trust in himself...he could
               no longer truly love, or feel
               loved - And so he started to die.

                                             CUT BACK TO:

     PARRY...

               And the only thing that could save
               him was the Holy Grail, but see,
               he forgot where he put it.  Then
               it goes...on about - how all the
               knights in the land try to find
               it - they brought him gold and
               jewels...but they never worked.
               The King was still dying.  Then
               one day, a fool came to the
               village.  And he knelt beside the
               King and sang him some songs.
               Told him some jokes...But the
               King felt weak and needed a drink.
               So the fool took a cup form beside
               the bed, filled it with water and
               handed to the King.  When the King
               took the cup, he suddenly felt
               better.  And he realized, it was
               the Holy Grail the fool had handed
               to him...the cup that was right
               beside his bed all along.
                    (BEAT)
               The King said, "How could you find
               what I could not find?"...and the
               fool said, "I didn't know I
               couldn't.  I only knew you were
               thirsty."

     JACK doesn't know how to respond.  HE's never known PARRY to
     be eloquent.

                         JACK
               Is that who you are...my fool?

     PARRY turns to face JACK and smiles.

                         PARRY
                    (suddenly a professor)
               The Fisher King myth has a lot
               of derivations...I remember I was
               at this lecture in Princeton once.
               It was this awful weekend seminar
               in occidental Mythology but there
               was this one speaker Dr...uh...
               Doctor...uh...um...

     HE stops.  As if this memory escaped with any warning.

               ...What was I saying?

     JACK is as surprised as he is.  PARRY'S face is frightened and
     confused again.  There is panic in his voice.

               ...What was I saying?

     JACK grows anxious at PARRY'S discomfort, so he covers:

                         JACK
               Nothing...Listen, how come you've
               never asked that girl for a date?
               ...Parry?

     But JACK'S VOICE BEGINS TO FADE AWAY FOR PARRY.

     HE raises his head, looks to the outskirts of the field and
     sees:

     THE DARK SILOUETTE OF THE RED KNIGHT UPON HIS HORSE.  Staring
     -knowing exactly where PARRY lies even though it's dark.  HE
     pauses for a moment then gallops off.

     PARRY watches the RED KNIGHT ride off.  HE looks frightened as
     he lays his head back down.

     JACK'S VOICE COMES BACK AND SNAPS HIM OUT OF IT.

                         JACK
               How come you've never asked that
               girl for a date?

     PARRY snaps out of it somewhat.

                         PARRY
               I don't know.  I thought it might
               upset our relationship.

                         JACK
               Well...would you go on a date with
               her if it...happened?

                         PARRY
               God yeah.
                    (he hears something)
               SShhh.

     THEY turn on their stomachs and look to the trees.

                                             CUT TO:

     THREE BLACK YOUTHS, silhouetted by a park lamp, making a deal
     beneath a tree.

                                             CUT TO:

     A frightened JACK and a suddenly confident PARRY.  PARRY picks
     up his sling shot, loads a rock, takes aim and fires.

                                             CUT TO:

     The rock hitting a nail, whose point secures a rope.  The nail
     flies off, releasing the rope.

                                             CUT TO:

     WIDE ANGLE - THE TREE and surrounding area - as the nets spring
     up out of the ground and catapult the youths up into the trees.

                         BLACK YOUTHS
               HEY!  WHAT THE FUCK!  SHIT!  GET
               ME THE FUCK DOWN FROM HERE!!

     THEY continue to complain and curse OC AS WE

                                                      CUT BACK TO:

     PARRY and JACK, who suddenly feels safe and more confident.
     THEY lie back down on the grass to continue their cloudbusting.

                                                      CUT TO:

     The billowy night clouds slowly drifting apart.

                                      JACK (OC)
                    Ha...Look they're moving.
                       (beat)
                    Am I doing that?

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. LOBBY, OFFICE BUILDING - MORNING.

     JACK waits near the elevators as the nine-to-five crowd make
     their way into the building. HE spots LYDIA and follows her in.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ELEVATOR -

     The elevator is packed with the lunch crowd. JACK stands at the
     rear. LYDIA is nuzzled against the floor buttons facing front.
     THE DOORS OPEN. LYDIA gets off with two leggy business women.
     JACK follows. SHE walks through two glass doors with the words
     HOWARD BOOK PUBLISHING INC. written in gold letters and enters
     the office...JACK waits until she had disappeared into the office
     then enters the reception area.

                                      JACK
                    Could you help me - what was the name
                    of that girl who just came in...

                                      RECEPTIONIST
                    I didn't notice. What girl?

                                      JACK
                    Uh..she was wearing a kind of a
                    flouncy...uh...plain...uh...

     HE makes big gestures with his arms to describe the dress, then
     "stringy" gestures with his fingers to describe her hair.

                                      RECEPTIONIST
                       (winning at Charades)
                    Oh, Lydia.

                                      JACK
                    Lydia. Lydia what?

                                      RECEPTIONIST
                    God...I have no idea. She's worked
                    here for fifteen years and I have
                    no idea...Wait, I'll call her...

                                      JACK
                    NO..no..that's all right...I thought
                    I knew her....Thanks...

     HE starts to leave. HE glances through the glass doors into the
     office just as LYDIA disappears behind a cubicle partition.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S OFFICE - DAY.

     JACK is on the phone, with an open yellow pages beside him.

                                      JACK
                    Yes.  Howard Publishing?  May I speak
                    to Lydia please.

     HE waits.  ANNE enters.  SHE is obviously very irritated with him.

                                      ANNE
                    Can I have my desk please.

                                      JACK
                    I just have to make this...
                       (to phone)
                    Hello, I'd like to speak to Lydia?

                                      ANNE
                    Lydia?!  Lydia who!?

                                      JACK
                       (to ANNE)
                    I don't know her last name...
                    I'll be off in a second.

                                      ANNE
                    You're calling LYDIA in MY office.
                    You must think I'm some dope.
                    You fuckin bastard.
                       (she punches his arm)
                    You stay out all night long...

                                      JACK
                       (overlapping, to phone)
                    What..No..Lydia...I want to speak to her
                    name is Lydia...I..uh...

                                      ANNE
                       (overlapping)
                    ...I don't get a friggin phone call.
                    You stroll in here at noon..I got...
                    ...Two people out sick. Ya think
                    I need this? I Do Not Need This!

                                      JACK
                    ...FORGET IT...GOODBYE!
                       (HE hangs up)

     ANNE sits down at her desk. SHE is waiting for an explanation.

                                      JACK
                    I was not with a woman last night.
                    I was out with Parry.

                                      ANNE
                    The moron?

                                      JACK
                    He's not a moron.

                                      ANNE
                    And who's Lydia?

                                      JACK
                    Lydia is the girl Parry likes.
                    And I thought, if I could get
                    them together I..

                                      ANNE
                    What? The curse'll be lifted?
                    WILL YOU PLEASE!

                                      JACK
                    I...You're not going to understand this.

                                      ANNE
                    Don't treat me like I'm stupid.
                    It pisses me off.

                                      JACK
                    All right..Sorry...I feel in debt to him.

                                      ANNE
                       (pause)
                    What does that mean?

                                      JACK
                    See, I told you!

                                      ANNE
                    Well, what the hell does that mean?

                                      JACK
                    I thought...if...if I can
                    help him in some way...you
                    know?..Then... maybe....
                    things'll start changing for me..
                    My luck, ya know...Maybe...

     ANNE looks at him incredulously. HE sits down and breathes a sigh
     - the absurdity of the idea hitting him as well. ANNE softens -
     feeling like she has unfairly taken the wind out of his sail.

                                      ANNE
                    Oh you poor kid...You're a mess.

     ANNE stands and buries JACK's face in her breast. SHE decides
     to be positive.

                    ...Well, listen....stranger
                    things have happened.

                                                      CUT TO:

     INT. ANNE'S APARTMENT - LATER THAT AFTERNOON.

     JACK on the phone to LYDIA. This time ANNE is right beside him.

                                      JACK
                    Hello Lydia?

                                      LYDIA
                       (abrasively)
                    Yeah? Who is this?

     HER abrupt manner surprises JACK. JACK uses his old, confident
     radio voice.

                                      JACK
                    This is Jack Lucas and I'm calling
                    from Video Stop video rentals.

                                      LYDIA
                    Yes.

                                      JACK
                    Yes well...
                       (guessing and hoping - )
                    You are a credit card holder, are you not?

                                      LYDIA
                    Huh-huh.

                                      JACK
                    Well, congratulations Lydia, because
                    out of several thousand card holders,...
                    in conjunction with several major
                    credit card companies...
                    you have just won a free membership
                    at our store on Second Ave.

     HE puts the reciever near a tape player and presses play. "HAPPY
     DAYS ARE HERE AGAIN" plays for a moment, then he shuts it off.

                                      LYDIA
                       (deadpan, not getting it)
                    How did this happen?

     JACK is prepared for LYDIA'S, shall we say, reluctance to buy it!

                                      JACK
                    Your name was picked.

                                      LYDIA
                       (suspicious...and dense)
                    Well, I don't understand. What did
                    you do - did you pick my name out
                    of a hat or...or..a list?

                                      JACK
                    A list.

                                      LYDIA
                    Well - were there alot of people
                    in the room or just you or what?

                                      JACK
                       (about to answer)
                    Well there....
                       (then)
                    What's the difference?