The Game
by
John Brancato & Michael Ferris
and
Larry Gross
and
Andrew Kevin Walker
2/8/96
HOME MOVIES from the 60's, SILENT and grainy:
EXT. MANSION -- DAY -- HOME MOVIES
A stately mansion. A perfect lawn. A BUTLER carries a
birthday cake with sparking sparklers...
Past wealthy MEN in crewcuts and thin ties, WOMEN in cat-eye
sunglasses. Everyone sings (silent) "Happy Birthday"...
CHILDREN follow the cake, in dresses and suits, gathering
round NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, 7, guest of honor, who wears a
blindfold. MOTHER comes to remove the blindfold and
Nicholas ogles the cake, laughs. He reaches for a sparkler.
STEP PRINT: Mother intercepts, fussing, fixing his hair...
Nicholas' FATHER sits near, smoking, nodding. He's intense,
thin, wearing a party hat. He notcies the camera without
mugging for it, bends to snuff his cigarette in an ashtray.
SPLICE-JUMP TO/STEP PRINT: a Harlequin CLOWN ties balloon
animals. Nicholas assists, distracted by the inattentive
children who look into the camera and pull hair and stand on
their chairs...
Men are drinking, storytelling, laughing. A fraternity...
The women are elsewhere, doing movie-vamp poses for the
camera, blowing cigarette smoke, brightly dressed, eyelids
blue and green, lipstick perfect...
Servants clear the table. Father holds a piece of untouched
cake. A man talks to him, but Father stares off, lost in
thought. He's forgotten the party hat on his head...
STEP PRINT: Mother puts her arms around Father and makes him
face the camera. He leans in, posing dutifully.
SPLICE-JUMP TO: a nanny in uniform, ILSA, holds an INFANT
(CONRAD) to the camera, places the baby in Nicholas' arms.
STEP PRINT: Nicholas is gentle, overwhelmed by cradling his
tiny brother.
SPLICE-JUMP TO: children play tag. Across the lawn, Father
heads to the house. He looks back, walks backwards.
STEP PRINT: he gives a small wave, continuing away...
Kids chase past. Nicholas and two other kids huddle, arms
locked, spinning round and round, till they stumble
different directions, falling, laughing, dizzy...
Nicholas gets up, wearing a PUPPET on each hand.
STEP PRINT: He walks CLOSE and peers in the camera, steps
back, happily talking. We can't hear because it's SILENT...
DISSOLVE TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BATHROOM -- MORNING
The emotionless face of NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, just today 40,
looks upon itself in a mirror. He brings an electric shaver
across his chin, shuts it off, wipes his face with a towel.
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- MORNING
Nicholas crosses. The bedroom is spacious, devoid of
clutter. A weight-machine in a far corner. A big T.V.
shows CNN with no sound.
At a bedside table, Nicholas picks up a heavy, gold ROLEX,
sliding it on, checking the time. 6:32.
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT
Nicholas stands at the kitchen islandm his tie thrown over
his shoulder, eating breakfast. ILSA, now elderly, is
across the way doing dishes.
The only sounds are the tiny clicks of Nicholas' knife and
fork against his plate. He's reading a German newspaper.
Nicholas jabs the last piece of egg, skewers the last bit of
ham and last square of toast. Plate's clean.
He sips his last swallow of juice, dabs his mouth with a
napkin, picks up his briefcase and heads to a back door.
NICHOLAS
(without looking)
Thank you.
ILSA
Have a nice day.
EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- MORNING
Nicholas walks down a garden pathway to a three-car garage.
He looks at his Rolex.
CUT TO:
INT. NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- MORNING
Bentley Continental Coupe. Quiet. Nicholas drives, begins
humming, barely audible. A Prince song, "Erotic City."
NICHOLAS
(sings, to self)
...until the dawn... making love till
cherry's gone..
(humming, quiet)
... Erotic City, you and me...
Nicholas changes lanes, HONKING the HORN, impassive. We can
BARELY HEAR the BEEPING in here. He glances back.
He drives, adjusts his mirror. Resumes humming.
CUT TO:
EXT. VAN ORTON BUILDING -- MORNING
Distinctive SAN FRANCISCO skyline on the horizon.
Nicholas' building is a brownstone bookended by skyscrapers.
Old money dwarfed by new. The Bentley arrives...
INT. VAN ORTON BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING
The Bentley moves past a valet station. One VALET follows.
The Bentley takes its place. A brass plaque reads:
"NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, Van Orton Enterprises." The valet
opens the car door for Nicholas.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON OFFICE -- MORNING
Two objects on Nicholas' desk: phone and laptop computer.
He's on the phone, operating the laptop with one hand.
Business talk, mile-a-minute.
MALE VOICE (v.o.)
(from phone)
... might be perched up on majority
shares, but you're not the only one
who gets hurt if the actuals crash.
Forecasts were fucked to begin with.
NICHOLAS
(into phone)
The moment Baer/Grant's P and L
report is placed in my hand, I will
be speed dialing your number.
Empty walls. No distractions. MARIA, the proper executive
assistant, stands practically at attention.
MALE VOICE (v.o.)
Is that a promise?
NICHOLAS
I'm sorry... I'm unfamiliar with the
term.
MALE VOICE (v.o.)
What if Alan calls me with a sob
story about substantiation procedure?
NICHOLAS
Take evasive action: have your
secretary say you're in a meeting.
Goodbye, Jack.
MALE VOICE (v.o.)
Yeah.
Nicholas hangs up, shuffling computer windows: stock quotes,
pie-charts, graphs, lists. Maria refers to an index card.
MARIA
Invitations: the Museum Gala.
NICHOLAS
No.
NICHOLAS
The Fitzwilliam Botanical Garden
Annual Fundraiser.
NICHOLAS
No.
NICHOLAS
The Hinchberger wedding.
NICHOLAS
Let me think...
(sits back, eyes closed)
Hordes of men in tuxedos. Everyone's
droning. Ludwell's trying to break
the ice by reciting an off-color
limerick...
MARIA
(impatient)
I'll send your regrets. Honestly,
why must I even bother?
NICHOLAS
Because, if you don't know about
society, you don't have the
satisfaction of avoiding it.
A KNOCK and a female ASSISTANT enters. There's a lot more
NOISE and ACTIVITY behind her.
ASSISTANT
Elizabeth on line three.
Nicholas taps his fingers on his lips, considering.
MARIA
Your ex-wife.
NICHOLAS
I know who she is.
(to assistant)
Take a message.
ASSISTANT
Um... Happy Birthday, sir.
Nicholas squints.
MARIA
(icily)
Thank you, Maggie.
The assistant backs out. Nicholas returns to his computer.
NICHOLAS
I don't like her.
MARIA
I wouldn't mention the following,
except he was very insistent. It's
obviously some sort of prank...
NICHOLAS
What?
MARIA
A gentleman left a message requesting
a lunch, but I assured him...
NICHOLAS
What gentleman, Maria?
MARIA
A Mister... Seymour Butts.
Nicholas looks up. He sits back, lost in thought.
NICHOLAS
(to himself)
"Under the Bleachers"... by Seymour
Butts.
MARIA
Pardon me? I'm afraid I don't...
NICHOLAS
Cancel lunch. Make reservations at
Campton Place for me and Mr. Butts.
Maria nods, heading out, high heels clicking as she crosses.
NICHOLAS
And, put the reservation in my name.
CUT TO:
INT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- DAY
Upscale. Quiet. Nicholas is in a booth facing the rear,
studying a thick FINANCIAL STATEMENT, making tiny notations.
A WAITRESS arrives.
WAITRESS
Ready to order, sir?
NICHOLAS
I'm still waiting...
Nicholas points out the other plate. The waitress leaves.
NICHOLAS
Excuse me...
She returns. He slides his empty glass toward her.
NICHOLAS
This was iced tea.
He's returned to his report. The waitress takes the glass
and leaves, irritated. Nicholas checks his watch. An
EXAGGERATED SNEEZE is HEARD and liquid hits the back of his
neck -- AH-CHOO!...
Nicholas jumps, sickened, turning to face CONRAD, who holds
a spray bottle and smiles.
CONRAD
Hey there, Nickie.
NICHOLAS
(repulsed)
Conrad, what a surprise. Gesundheit.
CONRAD
Happy Birthday, man.
NICHOLAS
(nods)
"Seymour Butts." I never get tired
of that one.
CONRAD
That's why it's a classic. Come on,
man... how 'bout a hug... ?
Nicholas is wiping his neck with a napkin as Conrad forces a
hug on him. Conrad takes a seat, good-lookingm unkempt,
tan, wearing a too-big suit jacket.
CONRAD
They gave me a free jacket at the
door.
NICHOLAS
They'll be wanting it back.
CONRAD
Not after I'm done with it.
(laughs)
Actually, I've been here. In
grad-school I bought crystal-meth
from the maitre d'.
NICHOLAS
Which grad-school?
Conrad smiles. The brothers take each other in for a
moment. Long moment. They're a bit stunned to be reunited.
NICHOLAS
You look good.
CONRAD
So do you. And to think I was
worried...
NICHOLAS
About me?
CONRAD
How long's it been? Since mom
died... four years? How are you?
NICHOLAS
Never better.
CONRAD
Elizabeth?
NICHOLAS
Divorced. Remarried to some
pediatrician or gynecologist, or
pediatric gynaecologist, in Sausalito.
CONRAD
Too bad, I liked her. So, you're all
alone in the House of Pain?
NICHOLAS
I redecorated. What about you?
CONRAD
Nowhere in particular. Don't you
keep track of my whereabouts anymore?
NICHOLAS
Connie... what brings you here? Is
everything alright?
CONRAD
Yeah.
NICHOLAS
You need anything?
CONRAD
No.
NICHOLAS
Really?
CONRAD
I don't need anything from you. I
was laying on a beach somewhere in
Spain, naked, and, it hit me --
Nickie's birthday. So, here I am,
four layovers, twenty-seven hours
flying and one donkey ride later.
Not necessarily in that order.
Conrad drops an envelope on the table.
CONRAD
For you.
NICHOLAS
You shouldn't have.
Nicholas opens it, takes out a sappy, Hallmark B-day card.
A BUSINESS CARD falls out. Nicholas picks it up...
CONRAD
What do you get for the man who has
just slightly more than everything?
The card: "Consumer Recreation Services." With a
PHONE NUMBER and ADDRESS below.
CONRAD
Call that number.
NICHOLAS
"Consumer Recrreation Services."
What, do they make golf clubs?
CONRAD
Trust me. Call that number.
NICHOLAS
Why?
CONRAD
They make your life fun. Their only
guarantee is you will not be bored.
NICHOLAS
Fun?
CONRAD
You've heard of it. You've seen
other people having it. They're an
entertainment service, but more than
that.
NICHOLAS
This isn't an escort service?
CONRAD
It's a profound life experience.
NICHOLAS
Like a stroke?
CONRAD
Call them. Trust me.
The waitress shows up with Nicholas' iced tea, spills some.
Nicholas blots it up with a napkin.
WAITRESS
Sorry. Let me get you another
napkin.
NICHOLAS
I'll be fine... if we could just...
She moves off as Nicholas raises a finger to order, ignored.
CONRAD
Tell me you'll call.
NICHOLAS
Okay.
CONRAD
Will you?
NICHOLAS
I said I would...
CONRAD
But, will you?
NICHOLAS
Are you still on mediction?
CONRAD
(taken aback)
Why would you say that?
The waitress arrives.
WAITRESS
Ready to order, gentlemen?
NICHOLAS
(ignores, to Conrad)
I didn't mean it like it sounded...
CONRAD
I'm not on anything anymore. I'm not
even seeing a shrink. I'm happy.
(notices waitress,
turning to her)
Do you mind... ?!
The waitress gives him a look, leaves.
CONRAD
(to Nicholas)
I thought you'd like this. Best
thing I ever did. If you don't want
to do it, DON'T...
NICHOLAS
I'll call them, okay?
CONRAD
It doesn't matter...
NICHOLAS
I'm going to call.
CONRAD
Do it for YOU.
NICHOLAS
Okay, okay... okay?
(pause, studies card)
I just... you know I hate surprises.
CONRAD
I know...
Conrad CLINKS his fork against a glass, motioning...
Behind Nicholas, WAITERS, WAITRESSES and BUS-BOYS, lying in
wait, now come to SING "HAPPY BIRTHDAY."
Conrad stands, loving it. Nicholas forces a fake smile.
CUT TO:
EXT. NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT
The Bentley cruises hilly streets, ESTATES on all sides.
INT. NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- NIGHT
Nicholas is on his CELLULAR PHONE. CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS.
FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)
(from cellular)
... seen the profitability report.
No one's happy with the numbers.
NICHOLAS
(into cellular)
Imagine how much MORE unhappy I am.
FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)
You'll deal with Alan?
NICHOLAS
Correct.
FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)
Okay, Nicholas. Sleep well.
NICHOLAS
I plan to.
He increases VOLUME on the CLASSICAL MUSIC, makes a turn.
He looks out his window, watching the street roll past...
FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY
SILENT, HOME MOVIE-ISH IMAGES as before: YOUNG NICHOLAS, 10,
peers out from a LIMOUSINE, watching his neighborhood
pass... PERIOD FASHIONS, PERIOD CARS and HOUSES...
BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY
Nicholas faces front. The Bentley comes to the formidable
FRONT GATE of the mansion. The gate begins to slide open.
Nicholas stares ahead, expressionless.
FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY
The LIMOUSINE pulls up the ungated driveway. Young Nicholas
emerges, carrying books, waving goodbye to the CHAUFFEUR.
Young Nicholas runs past rose bushes, heading to the house,
but slows, looking up...
High up, Nicholas' FATHER, in a robe, stands on a balcony
railing, looking to hte sky. He's weary, lowers his gaze...
Young Nicholas is puzzled, gives a tentative wave.
Father just stares, eyes dead, expression blank.
BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY
Nicholas looks down, puts the car in gear and drives...
THRU THE WINDSHIELD: the Bentley's headlights sweep the
stately Van Orton house.
CUT TO:
EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- NIGHT
Nicholas exits the garage, walks up the garden path. Ahead,
Ilsa's leaving through the kitchen door of the house,
heading across the yard to the GUEST HOUSE.
ILSA
Dinner's in the oven.
NICHOLAS
Thank you. Goodnight.
At the rear door, Nicholas stops himself.
NICHOLAS
Oh, I saw Conrad today.
Ilsa stops, looking back. They're far from each other.
ILSA
You did? How is he?
NICHOLAS
Okay. I think he's into some sort of
new personal improvement cult.
ILSA
(nods, at a loss)
Well... send my love, if you see him
again.
Nicholas nods. Ilsa leaves.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT
Nicholas uses mitts to remove a dinner plate from the oven,
sets it on a waiting tray: huge cheeseburger and hand-cut
french fries, perfectly presented.
Nicholas picks up a CUPCAKE with a B-day candle in it.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT
Nose-bleed-high ceilings. Cavernous fireplace. THREE TVs
in the ENTERTAINMENT WALL, the largest showing CNN.
Nicholas is seated in a chair facing his meal, pouring a
glass of champagne.
He toasts to no one, takes a sip. The PHONE RINGS.
Nicholas looks to it, hesitates. He hits SPEAKERPHONE.
NICHOLAS
(to speakerphone)
Elizabeth.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
(from speakerphone)
Happy Birthday, Nick.
NICHOLAS
(looks at watch)
Eleven forty. You almost didn't make
it this year.
Nicholas uses a REMOTE to MUTE BERNARD SHAW on the TV.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
Did you have a great birthday?
NICHOLAS
Does Rose Kennedy have a black dress?
You know my parties. I went not
once, but twice through the
spanking-machine.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
I can only imagine. How are you?
NICHOLAS
Connie asked me the same thing today.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
Connie, really? I always liked him.
NICHOLAS
Anyway...
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
I just thought this... might be
difficult for you.
NICHOLAS
Just another birthday.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
I meant because of your father.
NICHOLAS
That's right. He was forty, wasn't
he? Hadn't thought about it, to tell
you the truth, thanks for the
reminder.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
Why do I call you... ?
NICHOLAS
I honestly don't know. Listen, give
my best to Doctor Mel and Rachel....
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
Sue has a little brother on the way.
We just did the ultrasound.
NICHOLAS
No kidding? An official nuclear
family. You must be pleased.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
We are. We couldn't be happier.
Nicholas smiles thinly, bored, waiting for more.
NICHOLAS
Well, so... thanks for calling. I've
got some work here...
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
I should let you go.
NICHOLAS
Take care of yourself.
ELIZABETH (v.o.)
You too, Nicholas. I mean that, I
really do.
NICHOLAS
Um-hm. Good luck. Bye.
He PUSHES OFF the PHONE in the middle of her "goodbye." He
uses the t.v. remote to give BERNARD SHAW back his VOICE.
Nicholas eats, watching the news. He takes out the business
card Conrad gave him, looks at it, puts it on the table.
The card: "Consumer Recreation Services."
Nicholas sits back, chewing. He stares at the ceiling.
FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY
SILENT IMAGES: Nicholas' FATHER stands on the high balcony,
as before. He looks skyward one last time, then LAUNCHES
INTO SPACE... falling in EXTREME SLOW MOTION...
A head-first dive...
CUT TO:
INT. OFFICE BUILDING, 10TH FLOOR -- DAY
"DING," elevator doors open. Nicholas and TWO EXECUTIVES
are talking. As PEOPLE get on, the two executives get off.
EXECUTIVE 1
We're getting off here.
Nicholas follows. He and the executives huddle nearby.
NICHOLAS
(voice low)
So, we understand each other?
EXECUTIVE 2
We do.
NICHOLAS
Make it work on paper, and you can
count on my full support.
EXECUTIVE 1
Right-o. We'll talk. Soon.
They shake. The executives walk away. Nicholas returns to
elevator, pushes the button, waiting. He turns, noticing...
A massive WALL OF TRANSLUCENT GLASS marks the office of
"C.R.S." Modern. Activity beyond it.
Nicholas finds this disconcerting. He takes out his wallet,
digging up the C.R.S. business card, studying it... looking
again to the glass facade to double check.
He looks at his Rolex.
ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS DOORS
Nicholas enters. A female RECEPTIONIST speaks into a
HEADSET/PHONE. EMPLOYEES mill about. UTILITY MEN sort
crawlspace wiring.
NICHOLAS
(to receptionist,
shows "C.R.S." card)
Is this Consumer Recreation
Services... ?
The reecptionist takes the card. In the b.g., JIM FEINGOLD
pays a DELIVERY GUY for CHINESE FOOD.
RECEPTIONIST
(into PHONE)
You shouldn't feel this reflects
negatively upon yourself.
(to Nicholas)
Just a moment.
(back into phone)
We hope we haven't caused you any
inconvenience. Thank you for
considering C.R.S.
She studies the card, hangs up and motions to Feingold, a
bald, amiable engineer-type who passes with his food bag.
RECEPTIONIST
Mister Feingold... could you assist
this gentleman?
Feingold spins on his heels, looking, walking over with his
hand out. Nicholas shakes.
FEINGOLD
Jim Feingold, V.P., E.D.A.
Engineering and Data Analysis.
NICHOLAS
I'm not quite sure how this works.
My brother...
FEINGOLD
Oh, here we go...
Feingold takes the card the receptionist offers, examines
it, turns it over: finds FOUR NUMBERS on the back.
FEINGOLD
(of the numbers)
Excellent. Let's get started.
Nicholas picks up his briefcase to follow Feingold.
INT. C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY
Big operation. Feingold leads past partitioned cubicles
that seem to go on forever. C.R.S. WORKERS abound.
TELEPHONE CO. WORKMEN operate on the phones.
FEINGOLD
Sorry about about all the hullabaloo.
We're still moving. Stick with me...
I've got an office around here
somewhere.
Feingold reaches open BOXES, begins collecting pages from
each, loading up on all sorts of forms. he holds out his
leaking, greasy food bag to Nicholas.
FEINGOLD
Mind holding this... ?
Nicholas reluctantly takes it, keeping it at arms length.
INT. FEINGOLD'S OFFICE -- DAY
Feingold types at his computer. Nicholas stands, looking
through the pile of forms on a clipboard.
FEINGOLD
(TYPES in keyboard)
V-A-N... O-R-T-O-N...
(studies screen)
A gift from Conrad Van Orton.
Interesting...
NICHOLAS
What is?
Feingold picks up his Chinese food, eats using chop-sticks.
The BOX features a grinning CARTOON PANDA mascot,
FEINGOLD
(still studying screen)
Your brother was a client with our
London branch. We do a sort of
informal scoring. His numbers were
outstanding.
(holds up box)
Sure you're not hungry at all... ?
Tung Hoy, best in Chinatown...
NICHOLAS
No, thank you.
FEINGOLD
(eating, mouth full)
You need to fill out those forms.
Application, psych-tests: M.M.P.I.
and T.A.T. For the financial
questionnaire, don't answer anything
you don't feel like. We'll run a
T.R.W....
Nicholas looks through the densely written forms.
NICHOLAS
(reading FORM)
"I sometimes hurt small animals.
True or False?" "I feel guilty when
I masturbate..."
Nocholas looks up, skeptical. Feingold shrugs, embarrassed.
FEINGOLD
I don't write the questions. I just
review them.
NICHOLAS
What's all this for?
FEINGOLD
We want a sense of your overall
capabilities, limitations, turn-ons,
turn-offs...
NICHOLAS
No, I mean, what is it FOR? What
are you selling?
FEINGOLD
Oh... it's a game.
NICHOLAS
A game?
FEINGOLD
Tailored specifically to each
participant. Think of it as a great
vacation, except you don't go to it,
it comes to you.
NICHOLAS
What kind of vacation?
FEINGOLD
It's different every time.
NICHOLAS
(patience waning)
Humor me with specifics.
FEINGOLD
We provide whatever's lacking.
NICHOLAS
And if nothing's lacking?
FEINGOLD
May I make two suggestions... ?
NICHOLAS
Do you really expect me to
participate without knowing a single
thing?
FEINGOLD
First, admit to yourself that it
sounds intriguing. Second, you don't
have to decide today. Take the silly
tests, fill out the forms. One day,
the game begins. You either love it
or hate it. Decide then. We're like
an experimental Book-of-the-Month-
Club; drop out at any time with no
further obligation.
(smiles)
That was my sales pitch.
Nicholas thumbs thru the forms one last time...
NICHOLAS
How long will these take?
FEINGOLD
An hour for those... maybe another
for the physical.
NICHOLAS
Physical?
FEINGOLD
Cursory examination. Turn-your-head-
and-cough sort of thing. You'll be
out of here in no time.
Feingold takes out a ballpoint pen, clicks it and offers it
to Nicholas. Nicholas takes it.
On the pen, in tiny letters: the C.R.S. LOGO.
CUT TO:
TESTING MONTAGE -- VARIOUS C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY
- Nicholas fills out an APPLICATION of endless questions.
- A #2 pencil fills in circles on a long M.M.P.I. form.
CLOSE ON: "I often feel someone is following me.
True/False." "I hate vegetables. True/False." "Vegetables
hate me. True/False."
- WHITE ROOM. A stone-faced PSYCHOLOGIST holds up CARDS.
Nicholas gives his unenthusiastic interpretation into a TAPE
RECORDER, checks his Rolex.
One CARD shows a large ant in an apron feeding a TV dinner
to a human child. That card is replaced by another of a man
slipping head over heels on a banana peel.
- Nicholas wears HEADPHONES, facing a TECHNICIAN, raising a
finger on his left fist or right fist for each low BEEP.
Nicholas sighs, can't believe he's doing this.
INT. C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- MONTAGE CONTINUES
Electronic MONITORS and PRINTERS record Nicholas' EEG and
EKG. He's on an exam table, wearing a paper gown, covered
in SENSORS and WIRES, talking on a C.R.S. telephone.
NICHOLAS
(into phone)
... cancel. Push Cooper back to
Wednesday afternoon.
A TECHNICIAN studies readouts. A NURSE takes BLOOD PRESSURE.
MARIA (v.o.)
(from phone)
Mister Sutherland called about
Baer/Grant Publishing.
NICHOLAS
(into phone)
Tomorrow. Hold on...
(to NURSE)
How much longer?
NURSE
Almost done.
NICHOLAS
I heard that two hours ago.
The nurse smiles, pumping up the blood-pressure cuff.
Nicholas returns to the phone.
- DARK ROOM. Images FLASH on a screen: SHAPES, CURSE WORDS,
PICTURES of U.S. PRESIDENTS, INSECTS...
In flickering light, Nicholas, still in his gown, watches
with THREE BUTTONS before him, pushing one from time to
time. Frustrated, he looks around. He stands and turns...
Directly into the projector's bright BEAM OF LIGHT.
NICHOLAS
Hello... ? Anyone there?
(squints, holds up hand)
Hello?!
CUT TO:
INT. C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- DAY
Nicholas dresses, alone, pulling up his pants. He notices
above: a MIRRORED DOME in the corner, obviously a camera.
Nicholas pulls on his jacket as Feingold arrives.
FEINGOLD
Sorry to keep you waiting.
NICHOLAS
Don't worry. It's been terrific
spending the entire day with your
"crack team".
FEINGOLD
It's all down to this...
Feingold holds out a CLIPBOARD with PAPERWORK in it.
Nicholas takes it, studies it, wary.
FEINGOLD
An insurance company requirement. It
states that you are aware "the game"
exists and that you are a willing
participant in said game, so on and
so forth.
Nicholas flips a page and Feingold leans over, pointing.
FEINGOLD
(of the paperwork)
One guarantee. Payment's entirely at
your brother's discretion and, as a
gift, dependent on your satisfaction.
NICHOLAS
(still reading)
You mean, I don't like it, he doesn't
pay?
FEINGOLD
It's never happened. We've never had
an unsatisfied customer.
NICHOLAS
You mean, dissatisfied.
FEINGOLD
(glances at form)
That's right -- you're a left-brain
word fetishist.
Nicholas uses the C.R.S. pen to sign. Feingold turns pages.
FEINGOLD
Initials... initials, and...
(another page)
Sign here.
Nicholas is about to sign when Feingold grabs his wrist...
FEINGOLD
In blood.
(laughs)
Just kidding.
Nicholas signs. Feingold tears out a few PINK TINTED COPIES
and hands them to Nicholas, kind of in a hurry now.
FEINGOLD
Your copies, thank you. Keep the
pen. We'll let you know.
Feingold exits, gives a thumbs-up and a WINK, shuts the
door. Nicholas is a bit bewildered. He continues dressing.
NICHOLAS
(muttering to self)
... grown man just winked at me.
INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, RACQUETBALL COURT -- NIGHT
WHAM! -- a blue racquetball BALL SLAMS a wall...
THRU A WINDOW: Nicholas plays, alone, sawtting violently at
the ball. We HEAR a PHONE CONVERSATION in VOICE OVER:
CONRAD (v.o.)
What about Monday or Tuesday?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
Bad for me.
CONRAD (v.o.)
How 'bout tonight?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
Unfortunately I'm working all
evening. Wednesday's the only
possibility right now...
CONRAD (v.o.)
Okay.
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
Dinner?
CONRAD (v.o.)
Fine. I get to pick the restaurant.
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
By the way, I went to C.R.S...
CONRAD (v.o.)
Really? What'd you think?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
They seemed disorganized.
Nicholas finishes playing, exits. The ball keeps bouncing.
CONRAD (v.o.)
Well, the office is new. When I did
it in London, they'd been around
awhile. You gonna do this?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
Haven't decided yet.
CUT TO:
INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, LOCKER ROOM -- NIGHT
Carpeted floors and mahogany lockers. Nicholas sits at his
locker, wet, in a monogrammed robe, toweling his hair.
VOICES can be HEARD O.S.: BUSINESSMAN 1 and BUSINESSMAN 2.
BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)
... getting in on the ground floor of
the next Disneyland.
BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)
C.R.S. will not go public. They're
family owned.
BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)
Stranger things have happened.
BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)
No, they haven't, actually.
Nicholas leans to look around a locker. Businessman 1 and 2
dress, two fat-cats. Nicholas leans back, still listening.
BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)
They just opened here.
BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)
The game in San Francisco? You see,
they're doing fine without any of us.
INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, LOUNGE/BAR -- NIGHT
Nicholas enters, looking around, spotting Businessman 1 and
2 across the room. He gets the BARTENDER'S attention,
motioning to the businessmen.
NICHOLAS
New members?
BARTENDER
I believe so, sir.
NICHOLAS
This round's on me.
Nicholas moves casually toward the men...
INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, BAR/LOUNGE -- TIME CUT
LATER. Another round arrives at the table where Nicholas
and Businessman 1 and 2 chat. The businessmen smoke cigars.
BUSINESSMAN 1
... last time I played Pebble, I
swore I'd never pick up a club again.
NICHOLAS
Speaking of games... I couldn't help
but overhear you talking about C.R.S.
Businessman 1 and 2 share a furtive glance. Nicholas
discretely waves cigar smoke out of his face.
NICHOLAS
I only mention it because I took the
test this afternoon, down on
Montgomery Street.
BUSINESSMAN 2
Did you? Kudos.
BUSINESSMAN 1
So, yours hasn't started?
NICHOLAS
Not yet. I was hoping you could tell
me... uh...
(almost embarrassed)
What is it?
Businessman 1 and 2 smile. Shared enlightenment.
BUSINESSMAN 1
(to Businessman 2,
knowingly)
Ahh, what is it?
BUSINESSMAN 2
The eternal question.
BUSINESSMAN 1
(to Nicholas)
I envy you. I wish I could go back
and do it for the first time all over
again...
He raises his glass. They toast.
BUSINESSMAN 1
Here's to... new experiences.
(gulps drink)
If you'll excuse me, I've got to be
going. 'Night, Jon... Nicholas.
He leaves. Nicholas focuses on Businessman 2.
NICHOLAS
Did you play recently?
BUSINESSMAN 2
Hm? No, about a year ago. I was
working out of Los Angeles.
NICHOLAS
(nodding)
I've heard good things about their
London branch.
(leans in)
You have to admit, it sounds like
some fantasy, role-playing nonsense.
BUSINESSMAN 2
You want to know what it is? What
it's all about?
(off Nicholas' nod)
John. Chapter nine. Verse
twenty-five.
NICHOLAS
I, uh... haven't been to Sunday
school in years...
BUSINESSMAN 2
"Whereas once I was blind, now I can
see."
(rises)
Night, Nick. Best of luck.
Businessman 2 puffs his cigar, walks away. Nicholas watches
him go, then pauses, puzzled, mouthing the words to himself.
CUT TO:
INT. LAW FIRM, CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY
A table of unhappy LAWYERS. Nicholas goes thru a thick
CONTRACT with a red pen, CIRCLING, CROSSING-OUT and
SCRAWLING QUESTION MARKS ON paragraphs that displease him.
SUTHERLAND, trust personified, in his late 50's, stands
behind Nicholas, imperturbable.
NICHOLAS
(still scrawling)
As far as I'm concerned...
(reading, x-ing out)
... if the Baer/Grant meeting does
not take place tommorow, it might
as well never take place at all.
Nicholas slides the contract to the center of the table.
SUTHERLAND
When Mr. Van Orton boards his plane
in the morrow, he will have every
contract, side agreement and
addendum, the complete closing
package, flawlessly revised.
INSTANT UPROAR as the contract is grabbed up. All the
lawyers talk at once, fearful, arguing, protesting.
SUTHERLAND
Ladies and gentlemen...
(as they quiet)
This is why you're paid twice what
you deserve. So you will miss
another opera you would've fallen
asleep during anyway...
During this, Nicholas' CELLULAR PHONE is HEARD RINGING.
Nicholas takes it out, irritated.
SUTHERLAND
The meeting has been moved forward.
It affords you the opportunity to
show our client how well you will
rise to his exhilarating challenge.
QUIET COMMOTION resumes as Nicholas takes his cellular phone
to a corner, answering impatiently:
NICHOLAS
(into cellular)
Yes?
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
(from cellular)
Nicholas van Orton?
NICHOLAS
Yes, who is this?
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
This is Cynthia calling from C.R.S...
NICHOLAS
How did you get this number?
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
We've finished processing your
application...
NICHOLAS
I'm in a meeting...
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
... I'm afraid your application was
rejected.
NICHOLAS
(pause)
Pardon me?
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
You shouldn't feel this reflects
negatively upon yourself. We hope we
haven't caused you any
inconvenience...
NICHOLAS
This is absurd...
WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)
Thank you for thinking of C.R.S.
CLICK -- she's hung up. Nicholas folds the phone and
pockets it, his mind suddenly far away from the meeting
behind him. Sutherland steps close, concerned, quiet...
SUTHERLAND
Anything wrong... ?
NICHOLAS
Nothing. Nothing at all.
CUT TO:
EXT. FINANCIAL DISTRICT STREETS -- NIGHT
Nicholas guides the Bentley down streets lined with
skyscrapers, staring ahead. A previous PHONE CONVERSATION
is HEARD in V.O., a PHONE RINGING... RINGING... RINGING...
SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)
Would you like voice-mail?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
I suppose.
SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)
I'll connect you. Thank you for
calling the Four Seasons.
EXT. NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT
The Bentley heads towards home. The V.O. PHONE CONVERSATION
CONTINUES uninterrupted, CLICKING, then...
CONRAD'S VOICE (v.o.)
(voice-mail recording)
This is Conrad. Leave a message.
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
(waits till after BEEP)
Connie, it's Nicholas. Give me a
ring when you get a chance...
INT. BENTLEY -- NIGHT
The Bentley reaches the VAN ORTON GATES, which open slow.
V.O. CONVERSATION CONTINUES:
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
About your birthday gift. Things are
tight right now. I'm just not sure
whether it'll fit my schedule.
Anyway, see you at dinner tomorrow.
The PHONE is HEARD DISCONNECTING.
EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT
The Bentley's headlights sweep the front of the Van Orton
house. There's something there, on the ground...
INSIDE THE BENTLEY
Nicholas stops the car, peering ahead, worried...
THRU THE WINDSHIELD: A BODY lies face down on the edge of
the driveway.
FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY
The BODY of Nicholas' FATHER, sprawled face-down, in nearly
the same place, head twisted, mouth bloody.
BACK TO SCENE
Nicholas gets slowly out of the Bentley, reluctant.
NICHOLAS
Hello! What are you doing there?
(no reaction)
Wonderful...
Nichoals CLAPS his hands. The body doesn't stir. Nicholas
look all directions, then approaches.
NICHOLAS
Are you okay?
Nicholas nudges the body with his foot. He crouches,
confused, turning the limp body. It's a grotesque
HARLEQUIN, not unlike the clown from Nicholas' seventh
birthday, with a shiny face of painted wood.
Nicholas looks around for an explanation.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, FOYER -- NIGHT
The front door opens. Nicholas enters with the Harlequin,
depositing it on a hallway BENCH.
A half-inch of RED RIBBON sticks out from the Harlequin's
lips. Nicholas tugs the ribbon... pulling out a GOLD KEY
tied to the other end.
Three letters embossed on the key: "C.R.S."
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT
Nicholas sits with his evening's meal, examining the key.
CNN on TV. He looks across the room to the couch where the
Harlequin is slumped staring back.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
(from television)
... according to Nicholas Van Orton,
millions of Americans will be
affected by this legislation.
Nicholas hears this vaguely in the back of his mind, looks
to the TV. BERNARD SHAW has moves on to the next story.
Nicholas goes to the Harlequin, opening its hinged mouth,
attempting to look inside. He gets a knife from his tray,
uses it to probe the Harlequin's mouth, jabbing, prying.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
... number of criminals behind bars
growing by record numbers, with Van
Orton pointing the finger at stiff,
anti-crime regulations...
Nicholas looks up. He heard that. He walks toward the TV.
Bernard Shaw is reporting, nothing strange.
Nicholas waits. Nothing. He walks away...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
... largest portion of population
incarcerated. These figures were
given at a press conference called
toady by Mr. Nicholas Van Orton.
Nicholas turns, disbelieving. Bernard Shaw apparently looks
out FROM THE TELELVISION, perturbed...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
You going to spend the rest of the
evening prying at that clown's mouth?
NICHOLAS
(dumbfounded)
I... I don't...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
It's frustrating for me if you don't
even pretend to pay attention.
NICHOLAS
What is this... ?
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
This is your game, Nicholas, and
welcome to it. I'm here to let you
in on a few ground rules...
Bernard Shaw's FACE RIPPLES and GLITCHES occasionally,
revealing its true, computer-generated nature.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
You've received the first key and
others will follow. You never know
where you'll find them, or when or
how you'll need to use them, so keep
your eyes open.
NICHOLAS
(waves his hand)
How do you... ? You can see me?
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
I see you, I hear you. Why don't we
save the questions till...
NICHOLAS
How does this work?
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
There's a tiny camera looking at you
right now.
NICHOLAS
That's impossible.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
You're right. Impossible. You're
having a conversation with your
television.
Nicholas touches the TV, feeling the seams.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
It's miniaturized.
Nicholas begins poking his butter knife between slots of the
television's speaker, stabbing, poking...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
Do you know how dangerous that is?
Nicholas pries at the plastic speaker cover. It's not easy,
but he's determined, cracking the plastic...
ILSA (o.s.)
Mister Van Orton... ?
The speaker cover breaks off with a SNAP! and Nicholas
spins, holding the broken piece.
NICHOLAS
Yes... Ilsa, what is it?
ON T.V., Bernard Shaw grabs up pages, resumes...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
... and in other news, auto workers
vowed to remain on picket lines...
Ilsa's in the doorway, wondering.
ILSA
Is everything alright?
NICHOLAS
Fine.
ILSA
I've finished for the evening. Will
you be needing anything else?
NICHOLAS
No, thank you. Goodnight.
ILSA
Goodnight then.
She leaves. Nicholas throws the piece of television away.
Bernard Shaw stops reading now that the coast is clear.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
Who was that?
NICHOLAS
Never mind who that was.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
You're uncomfortable. You want to
know how a camera got into your home,
don't you?
NICHOLAS
Yes, I do.
ON TELEVISION: Bernard Shaw is REPLACED by a FISH-EYED IMAGE
of NICHOLAS' DEN. It shows Nicholas from behind.
The P.O.V. is not from the TV. Nicholas crosses the
room, keeps his eye on the TV as a guide...
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
(from t.v., o.s.)
... cold... cold... warmer...
warmer...
ON TELEVISION: Nicholas gets bigger as he gets closer to...
The Harlequin. Nicholas leans, looks at the clown's eyes...
ON TELEVISION: Nicholas' face is huge, distorted.
Nicholas pries one of the Harlequin's glass eyes with his
knife, pulling it out and examining it.
ON TELEVISION: The Harlequin's P.O.V. turns to STATIC.
Bernard Shaw returns with a PHONE NUMBER SUPERIMPOSED.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
Write this number down. It's a
24-hour Consumer Recreation Services
hotline, for emergencies only.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
But, don't call asking what the
object of the game is; figuring that
out is the object of the game.
Nicholas feels his pockets, finds the C.R.S. pen. He comes
up with a VALET PARKING TICKET to scrawl the number on.
BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)
Good luck and congratulations on
choosing C.R.S. We now return you to
your regularly scheduled program...
STATIC and SNOW, then CNN's Bernard Shaw is back for real,
newscasting. Nicholas reads the number he wrote.
CUT TO:
EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT
Nicholas crouches at a coaxial CABLE LINE at the side of the
house. He fingers a BOX with a miniature LOOP and RABBIT
EAR ANTENNA that's been spliced into the line.
He starts to unscrew it... then thinks twice. He leaves it.
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT
Nicholas enters thru the back door. He pauses, looking out
at the night. He closes the door and locks it. He PUNCHES
the ALARM CODE into a KEYPAD.
Nicholas takes his Bentley key chain from its hook, takes
out the gold, "C.R.S." key... adding it to the keychain.
CUT TO:
INT. SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT -- DAY
Nicholas enters the vast, busy terminal, briefcase in hand.
He walks with purpose, but is extra-aware of the world
around him. He notices...
A MAN and WOMAN engaged in a SIGN LANGUAGE conversation.
A MAN reading a newspaper peers from behind the pages.
A JANITOR opens a door with a big KEY CHAIN full of keys.
A MAN on a payphone seems to be staring at Nicholas...
Nicholas turns his head to keep an eye on the man,
practically bumping into a grimy HOMELESS BUM...
HOMELESS BUM
Help me out there? Used to be an
affluent fella, till some folks did
this to me...
Nicholas moves away, leaving the homeless man behind.
HOMELESS BUM
Don't ignore me. I got screwed.
INT. AIRPORT, RED CARPET LOUNGE -- DAY
Quiet MUSIC. Rich people's lounge. Nicholas sits with a
cup of coffee, considering magazines on a coffee table. Two
seats down, a BUSINESSMAN coughs and rises, leaving his
newspaper on the empty seat between Nicholas and himself.
Nicholas glances down, curious when he sees...
A smiling-clown-face INFANT'S RATTLE on the seat beside,
sticking out from under the paper.
Nicholas catches only a glimpse of the exiting businessman.
Nicholas looks around, picks up the rattle.
He rattles it, studies it, rattles it in his ear. He tries
to see thru it by holding it up to the light. He doesn't
notice the MOTHER who enters with a baby, watching him.
MOTHER
Excuse me...
Nicholas looks up, realizes, awkward, offering the rattle.
She takes it and exits.
There's a BESPECTACLED MAN watching Nicholas.
Nicholas notices, tries to ignore.
But, bespectacled man is really staring.
NICHOLAS
(sits forward, fed up)
May I help you... ?
Nicholas' tone has turned other heads. Bespectacled man
seems embarrassed, shy, taps his chest.
NICHOLAS
What... ? What is it?
Bespectacled man taps his chest again, points at Nicholas.
Nicholas looks down. Inside his suit jacket -- a huge blue
INK STAIN across his shirt. Nicholas stands, aghast, taking
out the offending pen.
It's the "C.R.S." pen, dripping ink.
INT. AIRPORT, BATHROOM -- DAY
Running water. Nicholas tries to clean his shirt, blotting
it ineffectually with wet paper towels. he looks in the
mirror, crestfallen. The stain's worse.
DEEP VOICE (o.s.)
Hey, buddy... you still out there?
Nicholas looks around. He's alone, except for a MAN in a
TOILET STALL. All we see are the man's brown shoes.
DEEP VOICE (o.s.)
(from toilet stall)
I'm in a little bit of trouble...
The man's hairy hand motions from below the stall. Nicholas
backs away, nervous, grabs his briefcase.
DEEP VOICE (o.s.)
I need paper. There's none in here.
Come on, help a guy out...
Nicholas considers, then hurries to exit.
DEEP VOICE (o.s.)
Hello?! Anybody? Hello?
INT. AIRPORT, METAL DETECTORS -- DAY
Nicholas' briefcase rides into the x-ray machine.
Nicholas drops his keys, cellular phone and Rolex in a tray.
He passes thru the metal detector. A SECURITY GUARD brings
the tray to him.
SECURITY GUARD
Nice watch.
Nicholas smiles tolerantly, collects his belongings. He
waits at the x-ray conveyor belt, which is stopped. A
FEMALE GUARD studies the x-ray monitor.
NICHOLAS
Is there a problem?
The female guard looks up, turns the conveyor belt back on.
Nicholas' briefcase arrives.
Nicholas moves on, aggravated. Ahead, Sutherland rises from
a seat along the concourse hallway, walking to meet him.
NICHOLAS
I wasn't expecting you.
SUTHERLAND
Wanted to wish you luck. Not that
you'll need it.
Sutherland offers the contract, points to Nicholas' shirt.
SUTHERLAND
Attractive...
NICHOLAS
(paging thru contract)
Don't ask.
SUTHERLAND
I checked it personally.
Nicholas nods, props his briefcase up on a window ledge,
opens it and drops the contract in.
CUT TO:
EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- DAY
Nicholas' jet touches down.
EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT, LOADING ZONE -- DAY
Nicholas follows a CHAUFFEUR. The chauffeur opens a LIMO
door. Several pressed SHIRTS hang waiting.
EXT. BAER/GRANT BUILDING -- DAY
In the shadow of the Baer/Grant Publishing offices, the
limousine idles. Downtown Seattle.
INT. BAER/GRANT PUBLISHING, ALAN BAER'S OFFICE -- DAY
Meet ALAN BAER, elderly CEO, blue-blooded, pissed.
ALAN BAER
All these years... the first time
ever you step foot in these offices,
it's to ask me to step down?
Nicholas stands by CHILDREN'S TEXT BOOK mock-ups. "Math-
Magic." "Wonder-Words." They're "Little Baer Books."
NICHOLAS
You promised you'd meet projections,
Alan. A dollar sixty per share you
said. So, I don't think this is so
surprising a visit.
ALAN BAER
Projections were far too optimistic.
NICHOLAS
Admittedly...
ALAN BAER
Our E.P.S. was one fifty last
quarter. We're up eight cents per
share.
NICHOLAS
But, the expectation was ten. And,
in this case, expectation is
everything.
ALAN BAER
Will you really hold me to it over
pennies?
NICHOLAS
My stock's falling. Isn't yours?
Those pennies are costing me
millions.
ALAN BAER
The stock will turn.
NICHOLAS
It probably will. In fact, I'd go so
far as to say it almost certainly
will, in time. Why should I settle
for that?
ALAN BAER
Because it's fair. Give me next
quarter. If you still feel this way,
vote your shares...
NICHOLAS
You're talking tomorrow. Today is
what counts.
ALAN BAER
You intractable son-of-a-bitch. If
your father could see you now...
NICHOLAS
What?
ALAN BAER
Your father was a friend. Goddamn
it... I watched you grow up. How do
you end up treating me like this?
This swings Nicholas into a new mode: acutely-focused anger.
NICHOLAS
It is so very inappropriate for you
to mention my father. Or, did you
think this, between us, was
friendship? Just because you went
fishing with my father, I should sit
on my hands while you throw my money
away?
ALAN BAER
Now, look...
NICHOLAS
(holds up his hand)
I'll be done in a minute. You
misspoke before. You're not
"stepping down." I'm taking you out
at the knees. The whole point is to
prove that you're not deciding
anything anymore. I'm firing you.
Action's taken. Confidence restored.
Stock goes up. I sell my shares.
ALAN BAER
There is no Baer/Grant Publishing
without Alan Baer.
NICHOLAS
Remember Daniel Grant? Do they
say, "without Daniel Grant, there is
no Baer/Grant Publishing?" He's gone
sailing, Alan. He's out there
enjoying his golden years, probably
wondering where you are.
At Alan's desk, Nicholas clears a space for his briefcase.
NICHOLAS
You made a promise. You failed. The
severance I'm offering is more than
equitable. Valid tonight only.
(looks at watch)
For one hour.
Nicholas takes a pen from a holder, lays it on the blotter.
NICHOLAS
I'll step outside, so you'll have the
privacy you need to read and sign it.
He tries to unlatch his briefcase clasp. It's stuck.
ALAN BAER
I could fight you on this.
NICHOLAS
You could. But, if I leave without
your signature, this agreement begins
to disintegrate; benefits shrink,
options narrow, compensations
shrivel.
Nicholas works on the briefcase the whole time, distraction
growing as it becomes a true struggle.
NICHOLAS
So... it is in your best interest...
to sign presently.
Nicholas sits, pulling the latch, trying to see what's
jammed. It refuses to open. Nicholas stares at it,
frustrated, then... an odd realization...
He takes his keys out, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it...
It doesn't fit. It was never meant for this lock. Alan
Baer watches, wondering.
Forgetting himself, Nicholas grabs up the briefcase,
pulling, grunting, desperate, striking it with his palm.
Nicholas straightens, immediately composed.
NICHOLAS
Well... as luck would have it, you've
just gotten a reprieve, I'm sure
you'll come around to my way of
thinking.
(picks up briefcase)
I have a plane to catch. My
attorneys will contact you.
Nicholas exits. Alan Baer doesn't know quite what to think.
CUT TO:
EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT TERMINAL -- DAY
On the sidewalk, Nicholas bashes his briefcase over and over
again against a fire hydrant.
EXT. SAN FRANCISCO AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- SUNSET
Nicholas' jet touches down.
INT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT
Nicholas sits staring. His battered briefcase is near. He
checks his watch, impatient, flags down a WAITER...
NICHOLAS
Is there a message up front from a
Conrad Van Orton?
The waiter goes. Nicholas drums his fingers. He slides out
of the booth, rising. when a WAITRESS knocks into him with a
tray. Wine spills. Glasses crash.
WAITRESS
Oh, excuse me...
Nicholas looks down at his wine-stained front. The waitress
is CHRISTINE, same waitress as the other night. She tries
to clean him up with a napkin.
CHRISTINE
I'm so sorry.
NICHOLAS
Please, don't do that...
Nicholas snatches the napkin from her, wiping his suit.
CHRISTINE
I apologize, sir, I'm having a
bad day...
NICHOLAS
A bad month. You did the exact same
thing to me last week.
Christine's taken aback.
NICHOLAS
Don't help me, just get more napkins.
And soda water.
CHRISTINE
(gets more napkins)
It was an accident.
NICHOLAS
Terrific. I now have a hundred
dollar dry cleaning bill.
CHRISTINE
I said I was sorry...
Nicholas turns his back on her, throwing wet napkins,
picking up clean ones, still patting at the stain.
CHRISTINE
(stews)
Asshole.
Nicholas turns, angry. The MAITRE D' arrives, shocked.
MAITRE D'
Christine! Mister Van Orton is a
valued customer...
CHRISTINE
Then, you kiss his ass.
She's leaving, but the maitre d' pulls her aside.
MAITRE D'
You don't talk to me like that.
CHRISTINE
(quiet, evenly)
I apologized, I offered to help.
MAITRE D'
Clean out your locker.
CHRISTINE
Fine, Dennis. Soon as I get my money
for this week.
MAITRE D'
I'll be right with you.
Christine heads to the back. The maitre d' motions for BUS
BOYS to clean, smoothly guiding Nicholas to a new table...
MAITRE D'
I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Van Orton.
If you're not too uncomfortable, will
this table suit you for a
complimentary meal... ?
NICHOLAS
Yes. Fine.
MAITRE D'
I'll fetch your waiter.
Nicholas sits, keeps wiping his shirt as the maitre d'
hurries away. After a moment, a uniformed WAITER moves
past, leaves a CHECK...
WAITER
Check, sir.
Nicholas picks up the check, indignant.
NICHOLAS
Excuse me...
But, the waiter is long gone. Nicholas shakes his head,
then the check catches his eye... "DON'T LET HER GET AWAY"
scrawled across it.
Nicholas turns to look. The waiter who brought the check
crosses the room, goes out the front door.
Nicholas rises, following...
EXT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT
Nicholas comes out the front, sees: the waiter has crossed
the street, still moving...
The waiter gets in a CAR as the car pulls quickly away.
Nicholas is baffled, looks at the check, heads back inside.
EXT. ALLEY, BEHIND RESTAURANT -- NIGHT
Christine exits the kitchen door, purse over her shoulder.
CHRISTINE
(back to doorway)
Yeah... ? Well, fuck you and your
vichyssoise, prick.
She heads down this dark alley. After a moment, Nicholas
follows, hurrying to catch up, briefcase in hand.
NICHOLAS
Pardon me... Miss... ?
CHRISTINE
Oh, no... you.
Christine picks up the pace.
NICHOLAS
I'm not sure how this works. Do you
have something for me... ? I got
this note...
CHRISTINE
What are you babbling about, psycho?
NICHOLAS
I want to know what's going on. Are
you part of this?
CHRISTINE
What's going on? I'm going on my
second job this month, and now I'm
going on unemployment.
She keeps walking. Nicholas stops, ponders. He follows.
They're nearing the end of the alley.
NICHOLAS
Excuse me, I need to explain...
CHRISTINE
Don't explain. Fuck off. Goodbye.
Nicholas steps in a deep, splattering pot-hole, stumbles,
pants soaked, stopping, fed up.
NICHOLAS
Son of a bitch!
Christine rounds the corner, heading down the street.
Nicholas reaches the sidewalk, watches her go.
NICHOLAS
(shouts after)
I'm trying to... ask you...
(giving up)
I'm apologizing...
He heads back the way he came. A strangled CRY is HEARD.
Nearby, a HEAVY MAN falls to his knees, then falls face
forward to the concrete. Nicholas looks around, alone...
NICHOLAS
(to Heavy Man)
Are... are you okay?!
DOWN THE SIDEWALK, Christine slows, looks back...
Nicholas bends, trying to see the man's face, seems afraid
to actually touch him.
NICHOLAS
Jesus... this can't be...
Nicholas looks up to see Christine running back.
CHRISTINE
What's with him?
NICHOLAS
I don't know... he fell.
Christine kneels, turns Heavy Man on his side and feels for
a pulse. Heavy Man convulses.
CHRISTINE
Do you know what to do?
NICHOLAS
I don't think he's breathing.
Christine clears Heavy Man's airway, pulling saliva and
mucus from his mouth with two fingers.
NICHOLAS
Oh, God... !
CHRISTINE
Don't just stand there, get help!
NICHOLAS
(taking out his CELLULAR)
This can't be real...
CHRISTINE
He's pissing his pants. Is that real
enough for you? Call 911!
NICHOLAS
Alright... okay...
CHRISTINE
He's turning blue!
Nicholas is starting to believe, dialing, circling as
Christine gives C.P.R. He listens to his phone -- STATIC.
NICHOLAS
Damn...
He backpedals in the street, cellular to his ear, trying to
catch a signal, tilst his head. STATIC. A HORN BLARES -- a
CAR barely misses Nicholas, DRIVER cursing.
Nicholas anxiously punches buttons. He spots a SQUAD CAR
and runs toward it...
NICHOLAS
Police!
SAME STREET -- TIME CUT...
SIREN BLASTING, an AMBULANCE is parked. PARAMEDICS pull a
stretcher, helped by TWO COPS, hurrying to the prone Heavy
Man. A crowd is gathered.
Nicholas and Christine watch the paramedics work. COP ONE
hands Nicholas a clipboard, everything hurried, overlapped:
COP ONE
You have to fill these out.
NICHOLAS
I don't know this man.
Christine takes the clipboard.
CHRISTINE
(to cop, of clipboard)
What do you need... ?
Paramedics hoist heavy Man on a stretcher and take him to
the ambulance. Cop Two goes to help them lift.
NICHOLAS
(to Christine)
I can't get involved in this.
Christine moves to climb into the ambulance.
COP TWO
(to Nicholas)
We'll have to detain you.
COP ONE
Report's got to be filled out. Ride
with your wife. We'll meet at the
hospital.
PARAMEDIC
(shouting to cop)
We're moving!
Cop One leads Nicholas to the ambulance.
NICHOLAS
She's not my wife.
COP ONE
It's a few blocks. Help me out, huh,
pal?
Nicholas reluctantly gets in.
EXT. CITY STREETS -- NIGHT
Busy streets. The ambulance rockets on...
INT. AMBULANCE -- NIGHT
SIREN WAILING. Paramedic works. Christine fills out forms.
Nicholas tries to see where they're going, frustrated.
NICHOLAS
This is nuts.
CHRISTINE
(without looking up)
What is your problem?
NICHOLAS
(digging in his pocket)
Ten minutes ago, I'm looking forward
to a quiet dinner. I get a note...
Nicholas slaps his CHECK on top of Christine's paperwork.
NICHOLAS
Suddenly I'm in an ambulance. Why am
I in an ambulance?!
He looks out the window. Christine studies the check:
"DON'T LET HER GET AWAY," finds it odd, looks to Nicholas.
NICHOLAS
(wincing, to paramedic
of Heavy Man)
He's breathing, isn't he? Is the
siren entirely necessary?
INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING ENTRANCE -- NIGHT
"Emergency Vehicles Only." The ambulance races down a RAMP,
moving across this big underground garage, doing a u-turn...
Backs up toward a busy EMERGENCY ROOM ENTRANCE. MEDICAL
PERSONNEL everywhere. Other ambulances. INJURED PEOPLE.
Our paramedics get out and unload Heavy Man.
Nicholas and Christine get out, disoriented. Heavy Man's
rushed inside via automatic doors. Christine hands off the
clipboard to Nicholas, following the stretcher...
CHRISTINE
Let's talk to whoever can get this
over with...
NICHOLAS
(reading clipboard)
Hold on...
(of the clipboard)
They want your driver's license
number.
Christine returns to look, and suddenly ALL THE LIGHTS GO
OUT. Nicholas and Christine look up. In the surrounding
darkness, we HEAR EVERYONE FLEEING...
FOOTSTEPS SCATTER... then, SILENCE.
NICHOLAS
You've got to be kidding.
CHRISTINE
What... is... happening... ?
The only light is a BULB inside the ambulance.
NICHOLAS
(disgust)
I was trying to tell you... it's a
game.
CHRISTINE
A game?
NICHOLAS
(tosses clipboard)
It's run by a company... they play
elaborate pranks. Things like this.
I'm really only now finding out
myself.
CHRISTINE
What are you talking about?
NICHOLAS
The lights went out, one hundred
people all ran away...
CHRISTINE
You mean, the guy who turned blue and
wet himself... ?
NICHOLAS
I'm sorry, about this...
CHRISTINE
You should be.
Christine climbs into the ambulance, searching.
CHRISTINE
There's got to be a flashlight.
NICHOLAS
(quietly)
I don't understand why they're
getting you involved.
IN THE AMBULANCE, she finds all drawers and cabinets EMPTY.
CHRISTINE
This is so fucked. You don't fuck
with people like this. I thought
that guy was gonna die. I gave him
mouth to mouth!
She digs in her purse, finds a book of restaurant MATCHES.
She lights a match, climbing out.
CHRISTINE
See you around.
NICHOLAS
Where are you going?
CHRISTINE
Home.
NICHOLAS
How do you know that's the way?
She just keeps walking.
A distant "DING" is HEARD. Far away, an ELEVATOR OPENS with
a light inside. Christine stops.
Christine changes direction, heading for the elevator.
Nicholas hurries to follow. The match burns out. A moment,
then Christine strikes another, lighting the way, barely.
As they squeeze between parked cars, Christine searches...
CHRISTINE
Where'd you all go? Motherfucking
frat boys. You better hide.
(to Nicholas)
Is your life so pathetic that this is
something you're willing to pay for?
NICHOLAS
It was a gift... from my brother.
CHRISTINE
How thoughtful. The gift of
inconvenience.
NIcholas stumbles. A beer BOTTLE is HEAR SKITTERING away.
INT. ELEVATOR -- NIGHT
They reach the elevator. Nicholas pushes a button.
NICHOLAS
Ground floor.
He and Christine step back and wait, looking up. And
wait... and wait, looking unhappily to each other.
Nicholas pushes all the buttons. Nothing happens.
Christine opens the EMERGENCY PHONE door: NO PHONE.
Nicholas touches his finger to a KEY HOLE below the buttons.
He takes out keys, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it...
it fits. He turns it. DOORS CLOSE and the ELEVATOR MOVES.
Nicholas is pleased, sees Christine wondering.
NICHOLAS
(of the key)
Long story.
(off her stare)
I found this key in the mouth of a
wooden Harlequin.
CHRISTINE
Never mind.
The ELEVATOR LURCHES, DROPS, then HALTS. LIGHTS OUT,
replaced by RED EMERGENCY LIGHT. A MOTOR is HEARD DYING.
CHRISTINE
I don't like that.
(pushing buttons)
We're stuck.
Nicholas takes out his phone, puts it to his ear. STATIC.
NICHOLAS
(pockets phone)
No signal.
Christine pounds on the buttons and doors, frustrated. She
tries to pry the doors open. Can't.
CHRISTINE
What's the going rate for the
"trapped-in-elevator-adventure" these
days?
Nicholas hits BUTTONS hard. Christine studies the ceiling,
moving under the square seam of the TRAP DOOR, pointing.
NICHOLAS
Don't even think about it.
CHRISTINE
Why not?
NICHOLAS
Read what it says: "Warning, do not
attempt to open. If elevator stops,
use emergency... "
CHRISTINE
If there was one.
NICHOLAS
"... wait for help." Wait for help.
I'm not opening a door that
specifically warns me not to.
CHRISTINE
Are you suggesting we wait till
someone finds us?
Nicholas considers this, looks around.
INT. ELEVATOR SHAFT -- NIGHT
The trap door CREAKS open. Nicholas looks up from the
elevator, standing on hand rails. He gets down.
IN THE ELEVATOR
NICHOLAS
I'll give you a boost.
CHRISTINE
You first.
NICHOLAS
This isn't an attempt to be gallant.
If I don't lift you, how are you
going to get there?
CHRISTINE
You pull me up.
NICHOLAS
It's much easier this way. Come on,
step up...
CHRISTINE
No.
NICHOLAS
Please...
CHRISTINE
I'm not wearing underwear. Okay?
There, I said it. Satisfied.
NICHOLAS
(looks at her skirt)
Oh. FIne.
Nicholas starts climbing...
IN THE ELEVATOR SHAFT
Nicholas comes up, batting cobwebs, tentative. He grips a
handful of grease, disgusted. He climbs thru, catching his
jacket on a jutting screw, FABRIC RIPPPPPPPPING...
CHRISTINE (o.s.)
Oops.
Nicholas stands in the shaft, pissed. He looks for a place
to wipe his hand, wipes it on his jacket, looking up.
NICHOLAS
There's a ladder here.
IN THE ELEVATOR
CHRISTINE
My hero. Let's go.
Nicholas offers his grease covered hand from above.
NICHOLAS
I don't think so.
Nicholas withdraws that hand, offers the clean one.
CUT TO:
INT. BUILDING LOBBY -- NIGHT
Elevator doors shift, forced from inside. Nicholas climbs
out, then pulls Christine out behind him. They're
head-to-toe filthy, clothing ruined.
NICHOLAS
Damn. My briefcase.
He looks back down the shaft.
CHRISTINE
I'll wait.
NICHOLAS
(resigned sigh)
It's not like anyone could actually
open it.
They walk, looking at the vast lobby and sky-lit ATRIUM.
NICHOLAS
This is C.R.S.
CHRISTINE
What's C.R.S.?
NICHOLAS
Consumer Recreation Services. It's
their building. They...
A BEEP is HEARD. Nicholas looks above...
Sees a MOTION SENSOR with a green light blinking.
NICHOLAS
Oh...
An ALARM SOUNDS; a loud RINGING BELL. Nicholas backs away.
NICHOLAS
Don't panic. When security gets
here, we simply explain what
happened...
CHRISTINE
They'll love that.
NICHOLAS
Yes... well...
FOOTFALLS. Nicholas turns to see Christine running away.
CHRISTINE
(over her shoulder)
Explain for both of us!
Nicholas looks around, unsure. He follows...
EXT. ALLEYWAY, BEHIND C.R.S. BUILDING -- NIGHT
Christine bursts thru "EMERGENCY EXIT" doors. Nicholas
arrives. He grips her arm and they walk, out of breath.
NICHOLAS
Walk, slowly. Don't draw attention.
Out for a stroll...
TIRES SCREECH. A SPOTLIGHT HITS them from behind.
ANGRY VOICE (o.s.)
You! Stay where you are!
It's a SECURITY CAR on the other side of a fence.
CHRISTINE
Run!
They run, down the alley.
ANGRY VOICE
Stop!
EXT. NARROW ALLEYWAY -- NIGHT
SIRENS HEARD. Christine and Nicholas sprint round a corner,
all out... thru puddles, glancing back. Ahead, a SECURITY
CAR skids, starting for them. Christine and Nicholas double
back. She takes the lead.
Christine spots something, makes a chouse, moving
into a very NARROW ALLEY space.
NICHOLAS
Where are you going?
(looks in, worried)
You can't fit there.
She's making fine progress regardless.
NICHOLAS
I can't!
Nicholas sees the SECURITY CAR bearing down. He must turn
sideways to fit in the narrow alley, shuffling after.
BEHIND, the car stops and SECURITY GUARD gets out, club in
hand. In the car, a GERMAN SHEPHERD barks.
Security Guard tries to fit down the space, but can't. His
belly's too big, his utility belt catching. He runs back to
the car, opens the door...
The German Shepherd shoots down the alley, a projectile...
DOWN THE TIGHT ALLEYWAY
Christine comes out into OPEN AREA, running on, looking up.
Ruined buildings on all sides, CHAIN LINK FENCES everywhere.
Nicholas arrives, pissed, trying to catch up...
NICHOLAS
You deserted me.
CHRISTINE
You're a grown man. I'm not
responsible for you.
NICHOLAS
You're the one who started running.
CHRISTINE
Me? You're the one who... !
(sees something)
Shit!
Christine runs faster. Nicholas looks back...
The German Shepherd's on its way...
Nicholas faces front, runs, arms pumping, terrified...
The German Shepherd's closing, growling...
Christine and Nicholas reach the CHAIN LINK FENCE ahead...
NICHOLAS
Climb!
Christine makes the leap first, scrambling up the fence.
Nicholas climbs beside her, pulling himself up...
The German Shepherd leaps... bites Nicholas' leg...
Nicholas YELLS -- PANTS RIPPING. The dog falls with a
mouthful of cloth.
Christine and Nicholas reach the top of the fence, clinging,
balanced on their elbows, looking back. The German Shepherd
barks and leaps.
Christine and Nicholas start over the fence, beginning their
climb down the other side...
ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE: three OTHER DOGS run from the shadows,
Pit-Bulls and a Doberman, jumping and biting...
Nicholas and Christine scramble back to the top.
All the dogs hop up and down, snapping. They gnash at each
other and bark at each other, frenzied.
Nicholas and Christine have no choice but to hang, stranded.
CHRISTINE
Now what?
Nicholas looks up, daunted. He spots something...
There's a place where the fence runs under a FIRE ESCAPE.
NICHOLAS
Follow me...
Nicholas gets a toe-hold, shifts his elbows, grunting,
beginning the herky lateral climb toward the fire escape.
Christine follows his example.
Slow going. DOGS BARKING NON-STOP, nipping at their heels.
CHRISTINE
Shut up, you stupid, fucking dogs!!
BARKING AND BARKING AND BARKING.
CHRISTINE
What are they guarding around here?
Each other?
Nicholas slips, keeps grip, but loses a SHOE...
The dogs catch the shoe in their jaws, fighting for it.
Nicholas watches the shoe get torn to pieces, keeps moving.
NICHOLAS
There goes a thousand dollars.
CHRISTINE
Your shoes cost a thousand dollars?
NICHOLAS
That one did.
CHRISTINE
(to herself)
... two hundred dollars a toe.
Nicholas reaches the fire escape, balancing precariously to
reach it. He climbs gracelessly up...
He helps Christine after him, bringing her on board. They
lean against the rail, exhausted. Nicholas looks to the
multi-leveled ladders above.
NICHOLAS
Let me guess. Me first?
He climbs. Christine looks down at the dogs, stupefied,
looks up at Nicholas on the CREAKING rusty fire escape.
CHRISTINE
(to herself)
This is getting out of hand.
As she starts up.
CUT TO:
EXT. GARBAGE ALLEY -- NIGHT
ABANDONED BUILDING. Boarded-over windows are kicked open
from inside. Nicholas and Christine look out.
They climb out onto ANOTHER FIRE ESCAPE, two stories up
above a trash filled, dumpster crowded alley.
CHRISTINE
Never did catch your name.
NICHOLAS
Nicholas. Nicholas Van Orton.
CHRISTINE
Nicholas Van Orton? What are you,
a czar?
Nicholas moves to the catch of the fire escape ladder,
unhooks it. The LADDER DROPS to bridge the gap to the
ground, KEEPS GOING, sliding free and disconnecting -- falls
flat to the ground below with a LOUD, ECHOING CLATTER.
CHRISTINE
(pause)
That's classic.
NICHOLAS
(staring down, misery)
Why... ?
Christine crosses to the far edge of the railing, points.
CHRISTINE
We hang down here and drop. The
garbage'll break our fall.
NICHOLAS
I think not.
Christine climbs over the fire escape railing...
CHRISTINE
Afraid you're going to ruin your
one-legged suit?
She lowers herself down, hanging off, legs dangling...
NICHOLAS
Be careful...
A metal DOOR is THROWN OPEN below. TWO THAI BUS-BOYS come
out, dumping garbage, smoking cigarettes, laughing.
Above, Christine looks up at Nicholas, mortified. She nods
urgently for him to help her back up. Nicholas climbs the
rail, beside her, trying to get a grip, none too effective.
Below, one bus-boy looks up, shouting. The other bus-boy
looks. They back away, SPEAKING RAPID THAI, pointing.
CHRISTINE
What are they... ?
(realizing)
Hey!
Christine lets go with one hand, trying to pull her skirt
shut. Nicholas loses hold, drops her...
Christine lands hard in garbage.
NICHOLAS
Are you okay... ?!
Nicholas drops, alarmed... lands in broken plastic bags of
wet garbage, slipping as he moves to Christine. Bus-boys
are helping her up.
CHRISTINE
I'm okay... I'm okay, thank you...
Bus-boys keep questioning in Thai. Nicholas and Christine
brush off. Nicholas takes off his spewed jacket, shakes it
in disgust, straightens his tie. They stop...
At the doorway, all the COOKS, BUS-BOYS, WAITERS and
DISH-WASHERS stare at Nicholas and Christine in wonder.
Nicholas and Christine stare back. Nicholas looks to
Christine, brushing rotten lettuce off her shoulder, nods to
the restaurant workers, clears his throat.
NICHOLAS
Table for two, please.
He offers his arm to Christine, she takes it, they head in.
CUT TO:
EXT. CITY STREETS -- NIGHT
ONE CONTINUOUS LONG SHOT: Nicholas and Christine walk,
taking their time, eating out of take-out boxes.
CHRISTINE
Where are we going?
NICHOLAS
(points at skyline)
That tall, bright building. Near
there.
They walk a long time in silence. A POLICE CAR moves from
behind. POLICEMAN shines a flashlight up and down Nicholas.
POLICEMAN
Everything okay, miss?
CHRISTINE
Yeah. How are you?
The police car keeps pace, then drives on.
CUT TO:
INT. NICHOLAS' OFFICE -- NIGHT
Nicholas enters, turning on lights, which dim to a warm
glow. Christine takes in the impressive office. Nicholas
crosses to a wall, opens a hidden closet, chooses a shirt.
NICHOLAS
There's a shower, if you'd like.
Christine leans to peek in the bathroom.
CHRISTINE
A shower in your office? You an
athlete or something?
Nicholas puts on a new shirt.
Christine circles the desk, runs her fingers down his phone.
CHRISTINE
What exactly do you do?
NICHOLAS
Investment banking. Moving money
from place to place.
Christine has wandered to the closed blinds, opening them to
reveal a breathtaking view of the city.
CHRISTINE
Nice.
NICHOLAS
Hm?
(looks)
Oh, yes.
Nicholas takes out a SWEATSHIRT and offers it.
NICHOLAS
A fresh shirt...
CHRISTINE
(takes shirt, crossing)
If this was my office, I wouldn't
keep that closed.
NICHOLAS
I don't spend much time looking out
the window.
(goes to desk)
I'll call you a taxi.
Christine faces away, throws off her filthy shirt...
Nicholas, on the phone, looks to Christine's shapely back
and RED BRA. He averts his eyes, embarrassed...
NICHOLAS
Oh! Uh...
Christine puts on the PENN STATE sweatshirt, straightens it.
CHRISTINE
Thanks.
Nicholas nods, phone to his ear.
CUT TO:
EXT. VAN ORTON BUILDING -- NIGHT
TWO CABS. Nicholas opens the door of the first for
Christine. She faces him, close.
NICHOLAS
I know the owner of Campton Place. I
could talk to him in the morning.
CHRISTINE
Don't. It was a shitty job anyway.
I overreacted.
Christine sits, keeps her legs out the door of the cab.
Nicholas stands waiting for her to pull her legs in.
NICHOLAS
Goodnight.
CHRISTINE
I don't think I've ever spent this
much time with someone who didn't
even ask my name.
NICHOLAS
The maitre d' called you Christine.
CHRISTINE
(remembering)
Right. Call me Christy.
NICHOLAS
Goodnight, Christy. It was nice
meeting you.
CHRISTINE
Give me an address so I can send your
shirt back.
NICHOLAS
Keep it.
She looks up at Nicholas, sits inside. He shuts the door
and steps back. Christine rolls her window down.
CHRISTINE
I have a confession to make. Someone
gave me six-hundred dollars to spill
drinks on you, as a practical joke.
NICHOLAS
Seriously? What did they say?
CHRISTINE
They said five hundred. I said six.
They said the man in the gray
flannel suit. I think I said, you
mean the attractive guy in the gray
flannel suit?
Christine smiles, rolls up the window. The taxi leaves.
Nicholas watches it go. A twinge of regret.
EXT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- LATER NIGHT
Nicholas' cab pulls up at the closed restaurant, behind the
Bentley. A restaurant VALET sweeps the sidewalk, waves to
greet as Nicholas gets out of the cab.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- NIGHT
Nicholas comes from the bathroom, just showered. He looks
at CNN on TV. He walks to change channels: infommercials,
B+W movies, cartoons. BUGS BUNNY. Nicholas leaves Bugs
Bunny on, steps back, watching.
He sits on the bed.
CUT TO:
INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- DAY
Nicholas sleeps. Cordless PHONE RINGING. He stirs,
awakens, face creased, hair mussed.
NICHOLAS
(in phone, voice cracks)
Hel... hello?
MARIA (v.o.)
(from phone)
Mr. Van Orton, it's Maria. I... I
wasn't sure I should call...
NICHOLAS
(in phone)
What time is it?
Nicholas studies his CLOCK RADIO: 11:05. He picks it up and
examines it, suspicious.
MARIA (v.o.)
(from phone)
Eleven o'clock. I took the liberty
of rescheduling your nine a.m. with
Allison and Dietrich. Are you... not
not feeling well?
NICHOLAS
I'll be in in an hour. I left my
briefcase at fifteen-thirty-three
Montgomery. Check with their lost
and found.
MARIA (v.o.)
Alan Baer's in town, at the
Ritz-Carlton.
NICHOLAS
Really?
MARIA (v.o.)
He's requesting dinner tonight.
NICHOLAS
We'll let him know.
MARIA (v.o.)
Also, the Claremont Hotel called to
say they have your American Express
card at the front desk. You left it
last night?
Nicholas is confused. He crosses with the phone, finds and
studies his wallet. He fingers an empty plastic pocket.
MARIA (v.o.)
Should I send someone... ?
NICHOLAS
No. Give me their number.
MARIA (v.o.)
Eight, four, three, three-thousand.
NICHOLAS
See you in awhile. Goodbye.
Nicholas hangs up, dials.
HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)
(from phone)
Claremont Resort and Spa.
NICHOLAS
(into phone)
This is Nicholas Van Orton. I'm told
my American Express card...
HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)
(from phone)
Yes, Mister Van Orton. Everything's
in order. The concierge has arranged
for the wine and flowers in the room.
NICHOLAS
Has he?
HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)
And, a young woman phoned just now to
say she's on route but running a
little late.
NICHOLAS
(pause)
Did this young woman leave her name?
HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)
I'm sure I don't know.
NICHOLAS
Thank you.
Nichola hangs up, interest piqued.
CUT TO:
EXT. BAY BRIDGE -- DAY
Nicholas drives the Bentley. PREVIOUS CONVERSATION:
SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)
There's no answer. Would you like
his voice mail?
NICHOLAS (v.o.)
Tell him his brother called, and to
call back soon as he can.
SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)
Yes, sir.
CELLULAR DISCONNECT. Nicholas looks in his rearview mirror.
THRU MIRROR: a grimy BLACK SEDAN follows... keeps distance.
EXT. CLAREMONT HOTEL -- DAY
Grand hotel. Nicholas lelaves his car with the valet.
INT. CLAREMONT HOTEL, LOBBY -- DAY
At the GLASS DOORS, Nicholas pushes thru. A THIN MAN in a
plain suit isn't looking, BUMPS Nicholas.
THIN MAN
Sorry. My fault.
Thin Man exits. Nicholas crosses the opulent lobby to the
desk. The grinning HOTEL MANAGER spots him coming.
HOTEL MANAGER
Ah, Mr. Van Orton. Here you go...
NICHOLAS
Have we met?
He hands over Nicholas' AMEX CARD, which Nicholas studies.
HOTEL MANAGER
I believe so. If you would jsut sign
here...
The manager offers a CHARGE SLIP and pen. Nicholas looks at
the manager, the slip, then signs. The manager hits a BELL.
A BELLHOP arrives.
HOTEL MANAGER
Show Mr. Van Orton to his room.
NICHOLAS
The key?
HOTEL MANAGER
Hm?
NICHOLAS
Is there a room key?
HOTEL MANAGER
Didn't I give you two?
NICHOLAS
No, you didn't...
Nicholas shakes his head and pats his pockets, stops,
feeling one pocket... reachse in and takes out a GOLD KEY on
a hotel key chain. Nicholas looks to the GLASS DOORS.
NICHOLAS
Cute.
INT. CLAREMONT HOTEL, HALL -- DAY
Long hallway. Nicholas follows the Bellhop. They arrive at
the door to ROOM 277.
NICHOLAS
I'll take it from here.
He tips the Bellhop, who leaves, uses the key, entering...
INT. CLAREMONT HOTEL, ROOM 277 -- DAY
Nicholas shuts the door. There's a room-service cart with
wine chilling. Nicholas moves down this short hall...
NICHOLAS
Hello... ?
His jaw drops. The room is TRASHED. Curtains shredded,
furniture overturned, television imploded, mirror
spiderweb-smashed, walls full of holes.
Nicholas moves forward, having spotted...
His battered BRIEFCASE on the ruined mattress.
The latch is undone. Nicholas opens it.
Inside: MANY PHOTOGRAPHS of blurry SEX acts. Bodies in
motion. Limbs. Breasts. A NAKED WOMAN tied to the bed.
One PHOTO shows two women entwined with a NAKED MAN who
appear to be NICHOLAS. It's a so-so cut-and-paste job.
A LOUD KNOCKING at the door startles Nicholas. He closes
the briefcase, freaked.
He hurries to the door as POUNDING is HEARD again, puts his
eye to the peephole.
THRU THE PEEPHOLE: a MAIN gets out her keys.
MAID
(thru door)
Time to make up the room.
Nicholas fumbles with the SECURITY CHAIN, slides it in place
as the door opens -- stopped. Nicholas keeps hidden.
NICHOLAS
Could you come back later?
MAID
Yes, sir. Sorry.
THRU THE PEEPHOLE: the maid moves away.
Nicholas crosses to retrieve his briefcase, and is crossing
back when he stops in his tracks upon seeing...
On a dresser, a MIRROR covered in COCAINE lines and residue.
IN THE BATHROOM
Nicholas turns on the faucet, washing the cocaine down the
sink, hands shaking. The mirror edge cuts his thumb and he
gives a cry, drops the mirror, which SHATTERS on the floor.
Nicholas sucks his thumb, puts it under the faucet. He
finds a hand cloth and wraps it round his thumb.
There are big blood droplets on the sink and floor.
Nicholas grabs wads of tissues from a box on the back of the
toilet, using them to blot up the blood, throwing tissues in
the toilet and flushing.
Nicholas keeps wiping blood. The toilet burps, OVERFLOWING.
WATER SPILLS OUT...
Nicholas backs away, panicked, exiting...
INT. CLAREMONT HOTEL, HALL -- DAY
Nicholas looks out from Room 277. He sees a MAID CART,
HEARS an O.S. VACUUM CLEANER. He run-walks down the hall,
hugging his briefcase. He pushes thru a STAIRWELL DOOR.
EXT. CLAREMONT HOTEL -- DAY
Nicholas takes his Bentley back from the valet, pulling out
fast to the street. Further back, the grimy BLACK SEDAN
moves from the curb.
INT. NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- DAY
Nicholas' mind races. He wipes sweat off his face.
He glances in his rearview...
THRU MIRROR: the black sedan, following again.
Resolve comes to Nicholas, and anger. He speeds up.
EXT. BERKELEY STREETS -- DAY
The Bentley weaves thru traffic, taking a corner sharp.
Nicholas spins the wheel, heading...
DOWN AN ALLEYWAY
Nicholas brakes hard, gets out of the Bentley and heads for
the mouth of the alley...
As the black sedan follows, blocked, stopping. Nicholas
comes to pull open the car door, confronting the rumpled,
PLUMP GUY behind the wheel.
PLUMP GUY
What the fuck... ?!
NICHOLAS
Why are you following me?
PLUMP GUY
I don't know what you're talking
about. I'm just driving...
He falters as he follows Nicholas' angry gaze to the seat
beside him where a FILE is open to a PHOTO of NICHOLAS.
PLUMP GUY
(fumbling to close file)
Look... what I'm doing is none of
your business...
NICHOLAS
Is Alan Baer "the Game?" Is that
what this is?
PLUMP GUY
(defiant pause)
Friend... why don't you back off.
He leans as he talks... inside his jacket, he wears a gun.
Nicholas reaches across and pulls the gun, hefting it.
PLUMP GUY
Hey... !
NICHOLAS
(of the gun)
Nice touch. Does the game use real
bullets... ?
Nicholas points the gun at the sedan's rear tire, FIRES!
The gun is SHOCKINGLY LOUS -- BURSTS the TIRE!
Nicholas looks to the smoking weapon, blanching.
Plump Guy leaps to the other seat, scrambling out the
passenger door, submissive...
PLUMP GUY
Okay, I'm a private investigator.
Somebody hired me to keep tabs on
you...
Nicholas lifts the gun, unsure, pointing it awkwardly...
NICHOLAS
Who... who hired you?
Plump Guy bolts, running away down the alleyway. Nicholas aims
the gun after him, but catches himself, lowers it. He runs
the other direction, back to the Bentley...
Nicholas gets in the car, drops the gun on the seat, drives.
INSIDE THE BENTLEY
Nicholas returns to the street, glancing back. He looks at
the gun. He opens the glove compartment, throws the gun in.
He takes out his CELLULAR PHONE, dialing...
MARIA (o.s.)
(from cellular)
Mister Van Orton's office...
NICHOLAS
(into cellular)
Maria. Have Sutherland meet me at
the Ritz-Carlton. I'm on my way
there now.
MARIA (o.s.)
May I tell him... ?
But, Nicholas is already pushing DISCONNECT.
CUT TO:
INT. RITZ CARLTON HOTEL, LOBBY -- DAY
Nicholas enters with briefcase. Sutherland rises to follow.
SUTHERLAND
What's happened...
NICHOLAS
Follow me.
INT. RITZ-CARLTON, ALAN BAER'S SUITE -- DAY
A HOTEL EMPLOYEE rolls a room service cart out. Nicholas
pushes past with Sutherland in tow. Alan Baer, his handsome
WIFE and lovely DAUGHTER are seated at a table where a
WAITER lays out a splendid meal.
ALAN BAER
Nicholas... this is unexpected.
Nicholas takes out the SEX PHOTOS, throws them on the table.
NICHOLAS
Do you actually believe that because
you publish children's books,
anyone's going to care about my
reputation?
Wife and daughter are frightened. Alan Baer covers the
photos with his napkin.
NICHOLAS
You could print pictures of me
wearing nipple rings and butt-fucking
Captain Kangaroo... all anyone would
wonder was whether the stock was up,
or down.
Sutherland's nervousness grows by the second.
DAUGHTER
Daddy... ?
ALAN BAER
It's alright, dear. Mr. Van Orton...
SUTHERLAND
Nicholas...
NICHOLAS
(still to Alan Baer)
That you've involved Conrad... is
unforgivable. I am now your enemy.
ALAN BAER
Are you finished?
NICHOLAS
No. This is my lawyer, Samuel
Sutherland. I thought you two should
meet.
ALAN BAER
We met, this morning. I signed the
termination contract for Baer/Grace.
I accepted your settlement, Nicholas.
you were right. I'm going sailing.
Nicholas opens his mouth, but no words come. He looks to
Sutherland. Sutherland nods to confirm.
ALAN BAER
You're welcome to join our luncheon.
Maybe we can straighten this our.
(motioning to...)
My wife, Mary Carol, and my
daughter-in-law, Kaliegh.
Wife and daughter give mumbled greetings, having no desire
to meet Nicholas. Nicholas just stands stymied.
NICHOLAS
It seems I've... please, disregard
my apparently misguided remarks.
Nicholas heads for the door, hurrying out. Alan, wife,
daughter, the waiter and Sutherland exchange looks.
SUTHERLAND
Well...
Sutherland walks to retrieve the sex photos.
SUTHERLAND
Enjoy your lunch.
Sutherland smiles, exiting.
CUT TO:
INT. NICHOLAS' OFFICE -- DAY
Nicholas sits at his desk, opens his briefcase, checking the
contents. Soon, Sutherland arrives, shutting the door. He
watches Nicholas, deciding.
SUTHERLAND
How concerned should I be?
NICHOLAS
It was a misunderstanding.
Sutherland puts the SEX PHOTOS on the desk.
NICHOLAS
Someone's playing hardball. It's
complicated. Can I ask a favor?
SUTHERLAND
You know you can.
NICHOLAS
Find out about a company called
C.R.S. Consumer Recreation Services.
SUTHERLAND
Sounds like they make tennis rackets.
What do we know?
NICHOLAS
Just what I told you.
SUTHERLAND
Nothing else?
Nicholas remembers. He opens up a file drawer in his desk.
NICHOLAS
They gave me their waiver. On
their... wait...
Nicholas hands over a file, returning to his briefcase. He
finds an ENVELOPE with a SMILELY-FACE on it. He opens it.
He takes out a silver-plated METAL CRANK. Like a handle.
SUTHERLAND
What is this?
Nicholas looks up. Sutherland's looking in the file,
quizzically, hands it back...
Nicholas studies PINK-TINTED PAGES; the pages Feingold gave
him, once dense with words, now completely blank except
for NICHOLAS' SIGNATURE and INITIALS several places.
NICHOLAS
(of the pages)
Christ... I can't believe it...
invisible ink?
SUTHERLAND
You're joking.