RIGHT HAND MEN
FADE
IN ON:
EXT.
CENTURY CITY HIGHRISE - DAY
A
granite slab out front identifies the building as the corporate headquarters of
'HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL'.
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Expensive
cars pull into reserved parking spaces - Mercedes, Porsches, BMWs. A dirty VW
Rabbit pulls in next to them, looking very out of place. The car's engine
continues to knock as two young executive-types climb out (KYLE MERIDETH and
NELSON FURBISCH).
NELSON
(hits
car hood)
Do
you know why I can't advance in this company?
KYLE
Because
you're a lazy, irresponsible flake?
Nelson
moves to a sign on the wall reading 'THIS SPACE RESERVED FOR RICHARD DORTCH'.
He pulls a similar sign from his briefcase which reads, 'THIS SPACE RESERVED
FOR NELSON FURBISCH', sticking it into place over the first sign.
NELSON
Besides
that. It's my name. Nelson Furbisch. Nobody can say it, nobody can spell it, so
they don't promote me. We'd be at the news conference to announce our
promotions and they'd introduce the new vice presidents Kyle Merideth and
Nelson...
(coughs,
covering mouth)
That's
why. Why couldn't I have a good business name, like...
KYLE
Iaccoca?
NELSON
Too
obvious. How about Rockefeller?
A
group of PARKING VALETS standing near the garage entrance call out angrily.
VALET #1
Hey,
you jerks - we're supposed to drive the cars in.
VALET #2
Yeah.
Trying to stiff us on the tip again, Forflush?
NELSON
Furbisch.
You guys don't need a tip. You probably make more than us as it is.
VALET #1
Jeez,
I hope so. I gotta keep up the payments on my Porsche. By the way, how much did
that VW set you back?
The
Valets laugh as Kyle and Nelson move off.
NELSON
(grumbling)
This
is why I spent four years in college - to be laughed at by parking valets...
CUT TO:
INT.
HIGHRISE - LOBBY - DAY
The
names of the corporations various subsidiaries are listed on one wall:
HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL,
INC.
NATIONAL ATOMIC
HARDCASTLE PETROLEUM
HARRISON AIRCRAFT
MR.
FREDDY'S TEDDY BEARS, INC.
A
crowd of men and women gather at a bank of elevators, the lines six and seven
people deep, all pushing and jostling for position. Kyle and Nelson step up,
surveying the scene.
KYLE
This
isn't worth it. We have to go through hand to hand combat just to get to our
office.
Nelson
glances down the hall, where an elevator stands with its doors open and
compartment empty. A uniformed boy stands beneath a sign reading 'EXECUTIVES
ONLY'.
NELSON
(nudges
Kyle)
Hey,
look.
KYLE
Oh
no, not again. We almost got caught last time.
NELSON
No,
it'll be okay. It's a new kid. C'mon.
He
grabs Kyle, pushing through the crowd. Affecting a limp, Nelson hobbles up to
the elevator, Kyle helping him. The ELEVATOR BOY eyes them uncertainly.
NELSON
Let
me through...the pain... the pain!
KYLE
Get
us to the twentieth floor, quick! This man was just mugged!
ELEVATOR
BOY
He
looks all right...
NELSON
(slipping
bill in boy's pocket)
All
I could save was this ten dollar bill... if only I could get up to my office
and sit down...
ELEVATOR
BOY
Right
away, sir...
Kyle
and Nelson step into the elevator as PALMER HARRISON steps on board. In his
early fifties, Harrison is the senior vice president of the corporation, and
obviously not a man to be fooled with. Kyle and Nelson freeze as he notices
them.
HARRISON
What
are you two doing here? This elevator is reserved for executives, not
secretaries.
NELSON
We're
sorry, Mr. Harrison - but as we were trying to get on the other elevators
someone tripped me and I think I sprained my ankle.
HARRISON
(suspiciously)
Judging
by past rides on this elevator I'd say you sprain your ankle quite often, Mr.
Flatbush.
NELSON
Furbisch.
I used to play a lot of hockey when I was a kid. Really tore up my ankles. One
time I actually ripped the muscle right off the bone. They had to glue it back
with this epoxy like stuff...
The
elevator doors slide shut.
INT.
NINETEENTH FLOOR - LOBBY
The
doors to the executive elevator slide open - Nelson still describing surgical
procedures while Kyle and Harrison listen sickly.
NELSON
...
so they grafted the skin from my armpit to my ankle, but then when I hit
puberty all this hair started to grow...
HARRISON
(stepping
out)
If
I ever catch you two on this elevator again I'll see to it you're fired. I
don't care who your boss is. Understood?
Kyle
and Nelson grin, speaking politely - and flipping Harrison off behind his back
as the doors close in front of them.
KYLE
& NELSON
Oh,
yes sir... thank you for your kindness, sir... don't accidentally fall out of a
window, sir...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
DARCY
VANDERWOOD, Harrison's personal secretary, sits at her desk, speaking patiently
to an eager YOUNG EXECUTIVE. In her mid-twenties, Darcy has the kind of beauty
that men find irresistible - and intimidating.
YOUNG
EXECUTIVE
You're
not giving me a chance. I'm bright, a good worker. Here...
(pulls
folder from briefcase)
...
this is my resume. It gives my complete history - schooling, past jobs, credit
history, references.
DARCY
Look,
I'm sorry Mr. Willard, but I already have a date Saturday night.
Harrison
bursts in, stalking into his office.
HARRISON
In
my office, Miss Vanderwood. Now.
Sighing,
Darcy grabs a pad and pencil, following Harrison.
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE
Harrison
enters his office, Darcy close behind. She takes a seat while Harrison steps to
an oil painting of himself, using it almost as a mirror - combing his hair and
adjusting his suit as he speaks.
HARRISON
I want
to dictate a letter. To J. Austin Hardcastle, Chairman of the Board...
(considers)
Dear
Fuckface: This letter is in response to your idiotic reply to my proposal for
testing of the space laser system that I presented last month. I would like to
meet with you to discuss your dull-witted complaints. Or better yet why don't
you just die and let me take over the company, which would be doing everyone a
favor, you senile old fart.
Darcy
takes everything down, reading it back.
DARCY
'Dear
Mr. Hardcastle: I would like to schedule a meeting to discuss our differences
over the proposed space laser system I presented at our last board meeting.'
(looks
up)
How
should I sign it?
HARRISON
'Your
loving nephew, Palmer.'
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
A
large sterile office, separated from the rest of the floor by thick glass
walls. Kyle and Nelson sit at their desks, name plates displayed prominently
(Nelson's name has been misspelled, a 'c' handwritten between the 's' and 'h'
in 'Furbisch'). Kyle works at a computer terminal while Nelson thumbs through a
copy of 'Sports Illustrated'.
NELSON
(thoughtful)
I
suppose my name could be worse. At least Furbisch is uncommon. Do you know how
many Smiths there are in the mail room? How long until lunch, I'm bushed.
KYLE
You
know, one way to get promoted is to do some work once in a while.
NELSON
I
did some work. I went through and organized all the office betting pools. I did
the baseball pool, the basketball pool, the interoffice tragedies pool ...
KYLE
You
bet on interoffice tragedies?
NELSON
Sure.
The latest bet's on how many kidney stones Mr. Irving's going to pass. We have
someone accompanying him into the men's room at all times.
KYLE
That's
horrible!
NELSON
(shrugs)
Well,
nobody bets on hockey anymore.
They
jump as suddenly an alarm clock on Kyle's desk rings, he and Nelson exchanging
miserable glances.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S BEDROOM - DAY
Kyle
opens the shutters, light flooding into the large, plush bedroom. Nelson stands
by an ornate king-size bed, staring down at the sleeping figure of J. AUSTIN
HARDCASTLE. In his mid-seventies, his position as one of the wealthiest, most
powerful men in the country has obviously taken its toll. Kyle and Nelson speak
softly.
KYLE
I
hate this. He's always so cranky on Mondays.
Nelson
leans over Hardcastle, who lays on his back, mouth gaping open. He nudges the
old man gently.
NELSON
Mr.
Hardcastle? Rise and shine, sir. Time to get up and make our lives miserable...
Hardcastle
doesn't stir. Kyle steps up.
KYLE
Anything?
NELSON
Nothing.
(grabs
poker from fireplace)
Poke
him.
KYLE
I'm
not going to poke him. You do it...
NELSON
Oh,
no. I did it last time.
Taking
the poker, Kyle reluctantly steps to the bed, poking Hardcastle gingerly in the
arm. There is no response. Kyle and Nelson exchange nervous glances.
NELSON
Harder.
Nodding,
Kyle jabs Hardcastle in the arm. Hardcastle lets out a yelp, bolting upright.
HARDCASTLE
What
the hell's going on?
Kyle
and Nelson jump back, Kyle quickly tossing the poker away. Hardcastle glances
at the clock on his bedside table.
HARDCASTLE
You're
two minutes late! You have specific instructions to wake me at precisely ten
o'clock every morning! Can it be that difficult?
KYLE
& NELSON
No,
sir...
Hardcastle
grabs a small remote control device from his bedside table.
HARDCASTLE
It
will not happen again. Is that clear?
Hardcastle
presses a button, guiding a motorized wheelchair toward the bed - and over Kyle
and Nelson's feet. They grimace, speaking through clenched teeth.
KYLE
& NELSON
Yes,
sir ...
CUT TO:
INT.
BATHROOM - DAY
A hot,
steamy bathroom. Kyle and Nelson stand by uncomfortably while Hardcastle sits
in a Jacuzzi-style tub, their jackets hanging near the towel rack. Both men
studiously look everywhere but at their naked boss as he issues orders.
HARDCASTLE
What's
on the agenda today, Kyle?
Kyle
reads from a legal pad on a clipboard.
KYLE
There
needs to be some decision made about Mr. Freddy's Teddy Bears merging with Mrs.
Funnybunny.
HARDCASTLE
Tell
them that we're not in favor of a merger at this time. Research shows that the
teddy bear market has peaked. Besides, it's bad enough having someone named Mr.
Freddy on the board of directors, we don't need to add anyone named Funnybunny.
NELSON
I
can do that.
HARDCASTLE
Kyle
can do it. Hand me my towel, Nelson.
Staring
uncomfortably toward the ceiling, Nelson gropes for the towel rack - grabbing
Kyle's coat and handing it to Hardcastle.
CUT TO:
INT.
SALON - DAY
Nelson
combs Hardcastle's hair, while Kyle reads from his clipboard, patches of suds
clinging to his soaked jacket.
KYLE
You
need to give final approval to go ahead with computerizing the payroll department.
And we'll have to give the staff their two week notice.
HARDCASTLE
Fine.
Kyle
frowns, looking to Hardcastle uneasily.
KYLE
I
don't mean to step out of line, sir - but is that really fair? Some of those
people have been with the company a long time, and...
HARDCASTLE
(interrupting)
Of
course it's not fair. It's business. You've got to learn to keep personal
feelings out of business dealings, Kyle. Everyone is expendable.
Nelson
grabs an aerosol can from a shelf, spraying a paint-like substance on
Hardcastle's head to cover his bald spot.
NELSON
I
can take care of it.
HARDCASTLE
No.
Kyle will handle it.
CUT TO:
INT.
DINING ROOM - DAY
Hardcastle
sits at the head of a long table, finishing his breakfast as Kyle hands him a
slip of paper.
KYLE
We
got a memo from Mr. Harrison. He wants a meeting to discuss the space laser
system he's developing.
Hardcastle
takes the memo, reading it tiredly.
HARDCASTLE
Take
my advice, Kyle - if you're ever in my position, never hire relatives.
Especially idiot relatives.
KYLE
(smiles)
Yes,
sir.
Nelson
enters, wearing an apron with the words 'HAIL TO THE CHEF' printed across the
front. He begins to clear the dishes off the table.
HARDCASTLE
I'm
too old for this crap. Twenty years ago I negotiated with the most powerful men
in the world every day. And now I worry about how to deal with a power hungry
nephew.
KYLE
You
don't have to deal with him. I can just tell him your schedule is full ...
Hardcastle
shakes his head firmly as Nelson wheels him away from the table. Kyle follows
as they head out of the room.
HARDCASTLE
No,
this is one meeting I'd better take. Palmer's been making noises about how held
like to run this business when I'm gone. I think I should let him know that I'm
not gone yet.
CUT TO:
INT.
BATHROOM - DAY
Nelson
pushes Hardcastle into a large restroom, which looks more like the men's room
at a fancy restaurant than a private bathroom. Kyle enters, making a few notes
while Nelson helps Hardcastle out of his wheelchair, supporting him as he
stands over the urinal.
KYLE
I'll
schedule the meeting for this afternoon at three o'clock. Will you need
anything - drinks, cigars, a gun?
HARDCASTLE
(laughs)
I
don't suppose there's any way I could just toss him out a window and be done
with him, is there?
NELSON
I'll
do it.
HARDCASTLE
(sighs)
All
right, three o'clock it is. Is there anything else, Kyle?
Kyle
refers to his clipboard as Nelson lowers Hardcastle back into his wheelchair.
KYLE
Uh...
not much. The limousines need to be washed...
Hardcastle
turns to Nelson.
HARDCASTLE
Nelson
- you can do that.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Kyle
enters as the Young Executive speaks with Darcy pleadingly, showing her items
from her wallet.
YOUNG
EXECUTIVE
...
I swear, I'm a really nice guy. Here's a picture of my parents... this is my
dog... here's my Porsche... my bank statement...
Noticing
Kyle, the Young Executive quickly closes his wallet, smiling wanly as he leaves
the room. Kyle steps to Darcy's desk apprehensively.
KYLE
Hello.
DARCY
(tiredly)
Hi.
Can I help you?
KYLE
Yeah.
My name is Kyle Merideth. I'm Mr. Hardcastle's secretary...
DARCY
I
know. You work with that obnoxious guy who sends me pornographic messages on my
computer terminal every morning.
KYLE
He'll
be flattered you remembered.
(hands
her envelope)
I
came down to see if you had any openings this afternoon.
Darcy
takes the envelope, a knowing smile on her face.
DARCY
You
guys have used that joke already.
KYLE
Pardon?
DARCY
Look,
I'm busy this afternoon, all right? And before we even get into it you should
know that I have a date Saturday night.
KYLE
(confused)
I'm
very happy for you, but I think there's been a misunderstanding. I'm here
because Mr. Hardcastle would like a date with Mr. Harrison at three o'clock.
Embarrassed,
Darcy opens the envelope, reading the memo inside. She looks to Kyle,
flustered.
DARCY
Oh,
jeez - I'm sorry... I just thought...this other guy...
(glances
at appointment book)
Three
o'clock is fine. I'll tell him. Anything else?
Kyle
smiles playfully.
KYLE
Yes.
What're you doing Friday night?
DARCY
(grins)
I'm
sorry, Mr. Merideth...
KYLE
Kyle.
DARCY
(cont.)
...
but I don't date men from the office. It's nothing personal ...
KYLE
Then
I'll quit my job. Would you mind going dutch? I'll be a little short on cash...
Loosening
up, Darcy laughs, shaking her head.
DARCY
How
about you keep your job, but give me a call if you're ever fired in disgrace.
KYLE
Well,
at least I have something to shoot for...
Kyle
and Darcy turn as the office door opens, Harrison sticking his head into the
room.
HARRISON
Miss
Vanderwood, have you heard...
(sees
Kyle)
What
do you want?
KYLE
Mr.
Hardcastle wanted me to tell you that he'd like a meeting this afternoon.
HARRISON
I
don't want you bothering my secretary, Mr. Merideth. In the future please send
interoffice communications through the normal channels.
Kyle
grins sweetly.
KYLE
Yes,
sir. I'll miss these warm talks we've shared, sir. Shall I flip you off now or
after you close the door?
Darcy
bites her lip to stifle a laugh as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
CLOSE
on Nelson as he works, muttering to himself.
NELSON
...
Let's see, 'Gibson' ... Nelson Gibson...Vice-President Nelson Gibson... no...
'Redford' ... Nelson Redford...Vice-President--
A
voice calls out, interrupting him.
VALET #1
(o.s.)
Hey
Nelson, you missed a spot...
We
PULL BACK to see Nelson, jacket off and pant legs rolled up, using a bucket and
a sponge to soap down one of Hardcastle's limousines. The Parking Valets look
on in amusement.
VALET #2
You
are going to Armor All the car, aren't you? The seats, the dash, the
bumpers...
VALETS
(in
unison)
...
and especially the tires!
They
collapse in hysterics. Nelson looks up, irritated.
NELSON
Shouldn't
you guys be around back sneaking a smoke or rifling through glove compartments
or something?
VALET #1
Nelson
- will you do my car next? I'll give you a dollar.
NELSON
Look,
peons, you may think this is funny, but at least I work in the building.
I park in this garage, and that means you work for me.
As
Nelson speaks one of the Valets waves a tow truck past, Nelson's VW. Rabbit
hitched to the rear.
VALET #2
Then
may I respectfully suggest that you park in the correct space next time. Sir.
He
tosses Nelson his fake reserved space sign. Nelson catches it, glaring at the
Valets hatefully as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
A 'Mr.
Freddy the Talking Teddy' sits on Kyle's desk. Fully automated, the doll speaks
in a cheerful voice while Kyle scribbles dictation.
MR.
FREDDY DOLL
...
and while profits were up 5% on the Mr. Freddy dolls last quarter, sales of
Missy Betty, Grammy Netty and Rich Uncle Getty were down...
Kyle
looks up as an elderly man enters, carrying a large sack. This is EDWIN NORMAN,
taxidermist and friend of Hardcastle's for many years. Kyle switches off the
'Mr. Freddy' doll as Edwin hoists the bag up onto his desk.
EDWIN
Hi,
Kyle. Is Austin in?
KYLE
Where
else would he be? Your appointment's in a couple of minutes. What's in here?
Kyle
opens the top of the bag to find a dead, stiff beagle staring back at him. He
jumps in surprise.
KYLE
Shit!
What... this is Frisky! He died last month. I thought Nelson was supposed to
throw him out.
EDWIN
(proudly)
Nope.
He brought him to me. We figured I've stuffed all the animals Austin's killed
in his life, it might be a nice gesture to preserve an animal he loved.
(picks
up 'Mr. Freddy' doll, frowns)
I
can't believe the shoddy workmanship these days. Now I could create a
teddy bear that would really make a child scream in terror.
Edwin
tosses the doll back onto the desk in disgust. Nodding uneasily, Kyle uncovers
the dog to find casters attached to it's feet.
KYLE
Yes.
Frisky looks... very lifelike.
EDWIN
I
pride myself on my expressiveness. Look at that face - like he's about to jump
up and lick you.
KYLE
(stepping
back)
Right.
EDWIN
This
was a tough case, though. See, Frisky here died with an erection. Which is not
uncommon, but by the time I got to him rigor mortis had set in. So I had to
take my hammer and hacksaw and...
KYLE
(cuts
in)
Well
it's been great talking to you. I'm sure Mr. Hardcastle will be very surprised.
You can go in now. And thank you for the lovely visual.
Edwin
takes Frisky, rolling him to the door to Hardcastle's inner office. Before
going in he nudges the dog's tail, which has been set on a spring to wag.
Opening the door he tiptoes in, calling out happily.
EDWIN
Look
who's here to see his poppy-woppy!
HARDCASTLE
(o.s.)
Frisky!
Edwin
closes the door behind him, Kyle shaking his head in wonder. He looks up as
Harrison enters, frowning impatiently.
HARRISON
I
have a three o'clock appointment. In case you're too busy to remember.
Feigning
ignorance, Kyle flips slowly through his appointment calendar.
KYLE
Let's
see... three o'clock, three o'clock... Harrison... Oh, yes, here we are. You
can bother Mr. Hardcastle in a few minutes.
Nelson
steps in, carrying his shoes in one hand and dripping wet socks in another.
NELSON
Hey,
Kyle - do you have an extra pair of socks in your briefcase?
(looks
up, seeing Harrison)
How
about you, Mr. Harrison? Or is it just a change of underwear you carry?
HARRISON
You
two are pimples on the butt of American business. When I inherit this company
I'm going to squeeze you out of here.
KYLE
You've
got a talent for metaphors, sir.
The
door to Hardcastle's office opens, Edwin stepping out. Inside we can hear
Hardcastle making dog sounds as he plays with Frisky.
NELSON
Edwin!
Did you finish? How'd it go?
EDWIN
Fine,
fine. No problems.
NELSON
How'd
you get rid of the boner?
EDWIN
Well,
as I was telling Kyle...
Harrison
glares at the three men with contempt as he heads into Hardcastle's office.
HARRISON
Do
you mind if I miss this?
KYLE
& NELSON
Please.
Harrison
steps into the office. Kyle and Nelson exchange glances, rushing to the door in
an attempt to eavesdrop.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Hardcastle's
office is a large room, walls covered by dozens of hunting trophies - the heads
of various exotic animals have been stuffed and mounted, all staring
glassy-eyed toward Hardcastle sitting at his desk. Harrison takes a seat as
Hardcastle pets Frisky, who stands on his desk.
HARRISON
Hello,
Uncle Austin.
HARDCASTLE
Hello,
Palmer. What do you think of Frisky? Look...
Hardcastle
sets the dog's tail in motion. Harrison gives a strained smile.
HARRISON
Very...
heartwarming. I wanted to discuss your objections to the space laser system
we've been developing. The government has expressed interest. A project this
large can only be beneficial to the company.
HARDCASTLE
My
objection is that it doesn't work.
HARRISON
Our
researchers assure us it is accurate enough to destroy a moving car from outer
space. We've already had one successful test firing from the prototype system
launched last month.
HARDCASTLE
Successful?
It blew up a station wagon in the middle of the San Diego freeway!
HARRISON
It
was a qualified success. It's just a matter of time until we teach it which
moving car to destroy.
Hardcastle
suddenly turns to the office door, calling out.
HARDCASTLE
Can
I help you two with something?
After
a beat the door opens, Nelson grinning sheepishly as he steps to the desk.
NELSON
(points
to Frisky)
I
was just wondering if you wanted me to brush Frisky. It is my day to
groom the animals, isn't it?
As
Hardcastle and Harrison glance at Frisky, Nelson quickly switches on the
intercom on Hardcastle's desk.
HARDCASTLE
Nelson,
I can't even get you to brush your own hair. It can wait.
NELSON
Yes,
sir.
Nelson
hurries out of the office, Kyle whispering to him as the door closes.
KYLE
(o.s.)
Did
you hear anything? What'd they say... ?
NELSON
Shhhhh!
Harrison
turns back to Hardcastle desperately.
HARRISON
Harrison
Aircraft needs this contract. You know our financial situation.
HARDCASTLE
All
too well. Which is why I plan to cancel this project.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE
Kyle
and Nelson are hunched over the intercom on Kyle's desk, listening intently while
Edwin sits to one side, tinkering with the 'Mr. Freddy' doll.
HARRISON
(over
intercom)
This
is ridiculous! It's impossible to deal with you. Every time a new idea comes
across your desk you kill it. You ignore memos, you're never at board meetings
anymore - it's like trying to do business with the invisible man!
Kyle
and Nelson jump as Edwin places the 'Mr. Freddy' doll back on the desk - now
sporting large, realistic eyes, fangs and sharp claws.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Hardcastle
stares at Harrison, speaking softly.
HARDCASTLE
I
suppose you think this corporation should be run by a younger man.
HARRISON
As
a matter of fact I do. We need someone who can move things forward rather than
living in the past.
HARDCASTLE
Someone
like you, for instance?
The
two men pause, turning at the sound of Kyle and Nelson groaning from the next
room. Ignoring them, Harrison leans over Hardcastle's desk, giving the old man
a friendly smile.
HARRISON
Why
do we spar like this every time we talk? Why don't you just step down and turn
things over to me. I'm the natural choice to take over the reins.
HARDCASTLE
Just
because we're related doesn't mean I'm obligated to turn this company over to a
man responsible for building a computer system stupider than most household
pets.
HARRISON
We
can do this easy, or we can do this hard, Uncle Austin. But I will run
this corporation. Even if I have to prove to everyone that you're a senile old
bastard who's forgotten how to run this business.
Harrison
stands, motioning to Frisky.
HARRISON
(cont.)
And
I always hated that smelly, disgusting dog! Always walking around with a
hard-on!
With
that, Harrison turns sharply, heading for the office door.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE
Kyle
and Nelson scramble to their seats, pretending to work as Harrison bursts
through the door and storms into the hallway. They flip him off as he leaves -
as does Hardcastle, who can be seen as the office door swings shut.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Harrison
storms in, barking at Darcy impatiently as he heads for his office.
HARRISON
My
office. Now.
DARCY
There's
someone here to see you, sir.
Harrison
turns to see FRANKIE MASON, a short man in a garish polyester suit, sitting on
the sofa, large manila envelope in hand. Glancing around uncomfortably,
Harrison whispers to Frankie hoarsely.
HARRISON
What
are you doing here? Did anyone see you come in?
FRANKIE
Take
it easy. I came up in the service elevator.
Annoyed,
Harrison motions Frankie into his office.
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE
Harrison
and Frankie step into the room, Harrison closing the door behind them. He turns
to Frankie expectantly.
HARRISON
Well?
Did you do it?
Frankie
smiles, opening the manila envelope. He pulls out a copy of the 'National
Enquirer' - the front page bearing the headline 'UFO ATTACK BLOWS CAR OFF L.A.
FREEWAY!', a full color photo of a crater in the middle of the freeway printed
underneath.
FRANKIE
I
didn't have any trouble getting them to print this one. My publisher ate it up.
HARRISON
(grins)
I
can't believe people are stupid enough to actually believe this crap.
FRANKIE
People
are bored enough to believe this crap. Hell, I'd rather read about a UFO
attack than what's really going on any day.
Harrison
tosses the paper on his desk, moving to the bar.
HARRISON
I'll
have my secretary cut you a check. The usual amount. Can I get you something to
drink?
FRANKIE
No,
I've got to get going. There's a rumor that Madonna's going to expose the one
body part she's never shown before. I think it's her kidney.
HARRISON
Forget
it. I've got another job I'd like to discuss with you. A big job.
(hands
Frankie a drink)
I
want you to follow my uncle and get as many... unflattering photos of him as
possible.
Frankie
laughs, setting his drink on a table and heading for the door.
FRANKIE
Oh,
sure. Need any shots of Bigfoot while I'm at it? Nobody's got a decent picture
of that guy in years.
HARRISON
The
job pays $250,000. Fifty now, the rest on delivery.
Frankie
pauses, suddenly interested.
FRANKIE
I
retain copyright?
HARRISON
(nods)
Of
course. But nothing is to be released until I say so.
Thinking
it over a moment, Frankie picks his drink off the table, taking a sip.
FRANKIE
I
don't want to sound nosy or anything, but it seems like the only thing these
pictures could be used for is to blackmail the old guy out of a job.
HARRISON
He
should have retired years ago. I'm doing it for the good of the company.
Frankie
takes a seat, resting his feet on Harrison's desk.
FRANKIE
Of
course you are. It's just that pictures alone usually aren't enough. You need
someone on the inside. Is there anybody close to him you can buy off? A
secretary? Nurse?
Harrison
shakes his head angrily.
HARRISON
The
only people who see him are his secretaries. Kyle Merideth and Nelson Fartface.
They're the worst kind of scum - loyal, honest, protective. They won't help us.
FRANKIE
Who
says they have to know about it? All you have to do is handle them like any
young, incorruptible men. Hire some chick to seduce them. It's a time honored
tradition in my business.
Harrison
smiles, intrigued.
HARRISON
That's
a viable option... do you know anyone we can contact? Someone we can trust?
FRANKIE
Usually
I'd suggest my wife, but she's having her monthly three-week bout with P.M.S.
There's got to be some ambitious young thing that wouldn't mind doing you a
favor.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE - LATER
Darcy
sits before Harrison's desk, shaking her head adamantly.
DARCY
Oh,
no. I'm a loyal employee, Mr. Harrison, but if I'm not willing to sleep with
someone to get myself a promotion, I'm certainly not doing it so you
can.
Harrison
leans against his desk, grinning dangerously as he hovers over Darcy.
HARRISON
That's
not what I'm asking. I just want you to be friendly, show some interest, get a
little information. Is that so terrible?
DARCY
Look,
no offense, but I'm just a secretary. I'm not sure it's so smart to be spying
on the Chairman of the Board.
HARRISON
But
it's very smart to do favors for the man next in line for the job. Much
smarter than getting fired over something so petty.
Getting
the message, Darcy stares at Harrison uncertainly.
DARCY
(sighs)
All
right. I'll spy on them, lie to them, take advantage of them - but I won't
sleep with them.
HARRISON
Of
course not. There's no reason to compromise your morals.
CUT TO:
EXT.
ROOFTOP GARDEN - EVENING
The
sun sets, tinting the smog a rusty orange. Kyle wheels Hardcastle through the
lush garden, the old man bundled tightly against any breeze, dark glasses
protecting his sensitive eyes. Nelson follows, walking Frisky - who rolls
smoothly on his casters. Hardcastle seems disturbed.
HARDCASTLE
If
Palmer gets control of this company it will be bankrupt inside a year.
(frowns)
And
I always thought he liked Frisky.
KYLE
Can't
you fight him? You've dealt with takeover bids before.
HARDCASTLE
Not
from within the family. And not in quite a few years.
(smiles
fondly)
Maybe
I could adopt you, Kyle. Then you'd be my closest heir and I'd know the business
was in good hands.
Surprised
and flattered, Kyle isn't sure how to respond.
KYLE
I
don't think my parents would be too happy with that plan.
NELSON
(brightly)
My
parents wouldn't mind.
Hardcastle
stares at Nelson a moment, then turns to Kyle.
HARDCASTLE
Perhaps
Palmer's right, it's time for me to step down. It's become obvious that I don't
have the energy to run things anymore. You do all the hard work, I just
delegate authority.
KYLE
Delegating
authority is the hard work. I can't believe you'd turn this company over
to someone like Mr. Harrison...
HARDCASTLE
I
said I was tired, not senile. I'm talking about going public. Selling stock. I
want this company to be run by shareholders, not one man. Not Palmer.
NELSON
I
still vote for throwing him out a window.
Hardcastle
laughs as Kyle wheels him to the edge of the roof. He looks down as commuters
jam the streets at the end of the work day.
HARDCASTLE
This
business has taken every minute of my adult life, I'd like to relax for a
change. Maybe call in some political favors - become the Secretary of the
Interior, head of the F.C.C., vice-president. Some bullshit job.
KYLE
Shouldn't
you think about this, sir? You don't want to make any hasty decisions.
HARDCASTLE
I've
been considering this for quite awhile. I've even had a brokerage house working
on a prospectus the last few months.
Kyle's
jaw drops in surprise. Before he can say anything Hardcastle turns, speaking
sharply. The decision made.
HARDCASTLE
(cont.)
Kyle
- call the lawyers, tell them to get any final paperwork in order. There
shouldn't be any trouble pushing this through the S.E.C. We'll need to call a
press conference as soon as everything's been put into motion. I want this
transition to be as public as possible. And Nelson - don't spit!
Caught,
Nelson leans back over the edge of the roof, smiling sheepishly as he swallows.
NELSON
Yes,
sir.
KYLE
(scribbling
notes)
Are
you sure you want to do this?
HARDCASTLE
It's
the only way to keep Palmer from gaining control of the business.
(grins)
I've
often thought that when I die they better bury me deep, because if I hear that
idiot's been given my job, I'm coming back!
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
FRATERNITY ROW - UCLA - NIGHT
A
party is going on in one of the frat houses, banner hanging above the porch
reading 'THETA CHI ALUMNI PARTY'. Nelson's VW pulls up to the curb, he and Kyle
climbing out.
NELSON
I
hate these things. They always make me feel like such a failure.
KYLE
We're
not failures. We're the personal secretaries to the richest man in the country.
Kyle
and Nelson step onto the porch, where two FRAT BROTHERS sit at a table, passing
out name tags with old college I.D. photos laminated to them.
FRAT
BROTHER #1
Name?
KYLE
Kyle
Merideth. Class of '87.
FRAT
BROTHER #1
(searches
through tags)
Here
it is... How much money did you make last year?
KYLE
That
goes on the button? A hundred thousand.
The
Frat Brothers look Kyle over skeptically.
KYLE
Okay,
fifty thousand.
FRAT
BROTHER #2
Didn't
you guys just pull up in a Volkswagen?
KYLE
(annoyed)
Just
write fifty thousand and give me the damn name tag. Wait 'till you get out in
the real world...
Frat
Brother #1 hands Kyle his name tag as Nelson steps up.
NELSON
Nelson
Furbisch. One-hundred-and-fifty-thousand.
Nelson
gives Kyle a playful grin. Frat Brother #2 finds his name tag, looking at the
photo suspiciously.
FRAT
BROTHER #2
This
picture doesn't look like you...
Nelson
glances at the photo, quickly messing up his hair and affecting a tired,
hung-over expression. The Frat Brother hands him the name tag.
FRAT
BROTHER #2
Okay,
now I see it.
Pinning
on their name tags, Kyle and Nelson step inside the house.
CUT TO:
INT.
FRAT HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Party
in full swing, the house is filled with well groomed, successful looking alumni
and students. Kyle and Nelson enter, making a beeline for the bar. They each
grab a mug of beer as ALLAN MELVILLE steps up behind Nelson, slapping him on
the back.
ALLAN
Hey,
Nelson. Allan Melville, class of '88. How've you been?
NELSON
Thirsty.
ALLAN
Haw!
I know that feeling. Listen, I just heard the wildest thing - do you remember
Artie Phillips?
NELSON
(grins)
The
guy who used to get stoned at parties then crawl under tables and look up
girls' dresses?
ALLAN
He's
a vice-president with Microsoft, can you believe that? By the way, what do you
do now?
Nelson
stares at Allan in shock, chugging down his mug of beer.
NELSON
I
get another drink...
CUT TO:
EXT.
FRAT HOUSE - PATIO
Kyle
steps onto the patio, where formally dressed middle-aged couples dance to
sixties protest records. He stands to one side when a voice calls to him from
the bushes.
BOB
ROTHMAN (o.s.)
Kyle!
Kyle Merideth!
Curious,
Kyle steps into the bushes, where he finds BOB ROTHMAN urinating into the
foliage. Bob extends his free hand, Kyle shaking it delicately.
BOB
ROTHMAN
Bob
Rothman. Class of '90. I was a sophomore when you were a senior.
KYLE
(wiping
hand on pants)
Sure.
How've you been, Bob? Actually graduated, huh?
BOB
ROTHMAN
Oh,
hell yeah. I'm with General Motors now. Executive in charge of foreign
operations. So what about you? Last I heard you were stuck in some dead end
secretarial thing, but that was years ago...
KYLE
(improvising)
Oh
yeah. Now I'm personal aide to J. Austin Hardcastle. He comes to me for advice,
and I assist him in all business decisions...
Bob
steps back, zipping his fly.
BOB
ROTHMAN
Still
stuck in a dead end secretarial thing, huh?
CUT TO:
INT.
FRAT HOUSE - DINING ROOM
Kyle
steps back into the house, moving to the bar for a refill. As he waits he turns
to the man next to him, smiling in recognition.
KYLE
Hey,
Fred! Fred Chambers! How's it going?
FRED
Couldn't
be better. My father died and left me his business. So I sold out to a big
eastern conglomerate and retired to my condo in Hawaii. You know, I never
really appreciated my father until after he was dead.
Kyle
smiles weakly as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
FRAT HOUSE DINING ROOM
Nelson
sits at a table, drinking from a bottle of gin. Another alumnus (WALLACE WILCOX)
and his wife watch him uncomfortably.
WALLACE
So,
Nelson - I hear you're working as a secretary now.
NELSON
(tenses)
What's
wrong with that?
WALLACE
Nothing,
nothing. In fact, every day I sit in my plush, air conditioned office in
Beverly Hills wishing I had taken typing in junior high so I could get where
you are.
Wallace
laughs good naturedly when his wife suddenly screams, jumping out of her chair.
Nelson glances beneath the table, calling out in recognition.
NELSON
Artie!
How's it goin' at Microsoft?
CUT TO:
INT.
FRAT HOUSE - UPSTAIRS BEDROOM
The
room is dark. The door opens, Nelson stepping inside, bottle of vodka in hand.
He hits the light switch, startled to see Kyle sitting on one of the beds.
NELSON
Kyle!
I didn't know you were in here.
Kyle
nods, glancing around the room nostalgically.
KYLE
Our
old room...
NELSON
I think
I recognize some of the garbage.
(laughs)
Remember
that time we got a sound effects record with a nuclear attack on it? You played
it full blast out the window and I shot flares off the roof?
KYLE
We
almost got expelled for that one. A kid down the street thought it was the end
of the world and threw himself out the window. Broke both his legs.
NELSON
Harmless
college hijinx.
Nelson
takes a swig from the bottle. He offers it to Kyle, who shakes his head.
KYLE
You
know, when we were in school I always thought I'd bank my first million by the
time I was thirty. I'll be lucky if I can pay of my student loan.
NELSON
Come
on, it's not that bad. We're personal secretaries to the richest man in the
country, remember?
Kyle
stands, moving to an open window. He looks down at the people on the patio.
KYLE
I've
spent the last hour listening to all my old classmates laugh at what I do for a
living. I remember when they were all horny, drunk economics majors. Now
they're all frustrated, alcoholic business executives, and I'm supposed to feel
inferior to them. And the shitty part about it is, I do.
Nelson
steps to the window, depressed. He takes another hit from the bottle.
NELSON
Maybe
we should enroll here again and start over.
KYLE
It's
like when we were in school we were more alive. I spend a lot of time wishing I
still felt like that.
Nelson
suddenly leans out the window, throwing up on the patio below. We hear the
screams of the guests as he turns back to Kyle, a grin on his face.
NELSON
Right
now I feel like I did in college...
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL - PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Parking
valets stand at the garage entrance as Nelson's VW pulls in, laughing and
shouting insults.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S BEDROOM
Kyle
opens the shutters, stepping to Hardcastle's bed. He shakes the old man gently.
KYLE
Mr.
Hardcastle... time to get up, sir...
Hardcastle
stirs, glancing at the clock. He chuckles softly.
HARDCASTLE
Ten
o'clock on the dot. Now that I'm leaving you finally get it right.
(sits
up)
What's
on the agenda today, Kyle?
KYLE
Happy
birthday, sir.
Kyle
opens the door, Nelson pushing in a large birthday cake on a cart - 76 candles
blazing away on top. Hardcastle can only stare as the cake is wheeled next to
the bed.
KYLE
Blow
out the candles, sir.
HARDCASTLE
All
of them? I think we'd better use the fire extinguisher.
NELSON
Don't
forget to make a wish.
HARDCASTLE
I
wish there weren't so many candles on my birthday cake.
Hardcastle
blows out the candles, Kyle and Nelson helping him with the last few. Nelson
pulls gift wrapped boxes from beneath the cart, setting then on the bed.
KYLE
(reading
card)
This
is from King Faud of Saudi Arabia...
Hardcastle
opens the package, pulling out a solid gold shaving cream dispenser in the
shape of an oil derrick.
KYLE
(cont.)
...
And there's a camel in the parking lot.
HARDCASTLE
(sighs)
Another
one? Call the zoo ...
Kyle
reads the card from the next gift.
KYLE
This
one's from Mr. Trump...
HARDCASTLE
That
flash-in-the-pan.
Hardcastle
opens the box, pulling out a bronze bust of himself.
HARDCASTLE
(laughs)
Another
head for the trophy room!
KYLE
And
there's another camel in the parking lot.
HARDCASTLE
I
wonder what he got from Saudi Arabia on his birthday...
NELSON
(reads
card)
This
next one's from Mr. Harrison.
Hardcastle
opens the next gift, removing a bottle of cologne.
HARDCASTLE
Wonderful.
Another bottle of cheap aftershave...
Reaching
out, Hardcastle opens a drawer in his night table, dropping the bottle of
cologne in with a dozen identical bottles. Kyle hands him a large, sloppily
wrapped package.
KYLE
This
is from me.
Hardcastle
opens the package to find the head of a Mr. Freddy teddy bear mounted on a
plaque.
HARDCASTLE
Thank
you, Kyle. My only regret is not having had the pleasure of shooting it myself.
NELSON
(handing
Hardcastle envelope)
Here's
something from me.
Hardcastle
opens the envelope, pulling out a coupon book.
HARDCASTLE
Fifty
coupons to Jiffy Car Wash. I should've known...
NELSON
Happy
birthday, boss. We're going to miss having you around.
HARDCASTLE
I'm
going to miss being here. I only hope the business doesn't miss me.
KYLE
Don't
worry - if Mr. Harrison tries anything stupid we'll personally bring you back
to kick his butt.
NELSON
If
he doesn't fire us first.
Hardcastle
gives them a smug grin.
HARDCASTLE
He
won't fire you. I've already taken care of that.
KYLE
& NELSON
(gleefully)
You're
demoting him?
HARDCASTLE
(frowns)
No,
I'm promoting you.
A
moment of silence. Kyle and Nelson turn to one another, dumbfounded.
KYLE
Pardon
me?
HARDCASTLE
Kyle,
you're our new 'Vice-President in charge of Overseas Payroll and Expansion'.
And Nelson, you're now 'Vice-President in charge of Extracurricular Employee
Function and Morale'.
NELSON
What's
that?
HARDCASTLE
Basically
it's what you do now, but with your own office, a company car and a healthy pay
raise.
NELSON
(smiles)
Cool.
HARDCASTLE
The
lawyers are drawing up the contracts now. They should be ready in a day or two.
It's my way of saying thank you for five years of service.
Stunned,
Kyle looks to Nelson, who smiles calmly.
NELSON
Excuse
me while I get a knife for the cake.
Nelson
steps out of the bedroom, closing the door quietly behind him. Kyle turns back
to Hardcastle in disbelief.
KYLE
I
don't know how to thank you, sir.
HARDCASTLE
It's
not charity, Kyle. You've earned it.
A
primal, joyous scream suddenly bursts from the next room, pictures on the walls
rattling from the vibration.
KYLE
Nelson
thanks you, too.
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - DAY
The
office is a mess. A mountain of wrapping paper is piled in one corner, birthday
presents strewn everywhere: Persian rugs, various oil portraits of a much
younger Hardcastle, luggage, golf clubs, an exercise bike, etc. Sitting at his
desk, Hardcastle opens a box, pulling out various gifts.
HARDCASTLE
Look
at this. Ted Turner sent me a set of ginsu knives, a 'Sounds of the Seventies'
tape and a pocket fisherman.
Turning,
he calls to Kyle, who fiddles with the knobs on a projection TV with a large
bow tied around it.
HARDCASTLE
How's
it coming, Kyle? Almost got it figured out?
KYLE
I
don't know. Maybe Nelson should do this, I think I'm color blind or something.
Nelson
sits on the floor next to a half-assembled H.O. train set, eating a piece of
cake from a plate. He shakes his head, wiping frosting from around his mouth.
NELSON
Oh,
no. We agreed - I put together the train set and you do the TV.
A news
broadcast plays on screen, the ANCHORMAN'S face turning green, then blue, then
beet red as Kyle struggles to adjust the color.
HARDCASTLE
There
you go, you're getting closer to skin tone all the time.
KYLE
Are
you sure you wouldn't prefer black and white? It's classic...
Suddenly
an old photo of Hardcastle's face is flashed on the TV screen. The old man's
smile fades as he calls to Kyle.
HARDCASTLE
Kyle,
turn up the sound, will you?
Kyle
glances at the screen, quickly turning up the volume.
ANCHORMAN
(on TV)
...
In financial news - J. Austin Hardcastle, the reclusive Chairman of the Board
of Hardcastle International, has scheduled a press conference for tomorrow
morning. Rumors that the elderly business czar may finally be stepping down
have all of Wall Street a-buzzin'. We'll return in a moment...
The
news is replaced by a used car commercial featuring an obnoxious salesman in a
jewel-encrusted cowboy suit pulled in a cart by a tiger while he screams at the
camera. Hardcastle frowns, looking to Kyle angrily.
HARDCASTLE
The
public's right to know is only superseded by the press' right to speculate. Get
on the phone to every newspaper and television station in town to deny the
rumors. I don't want the board of directors to panic. Until tomorrow.
Nelson
stands, plate of cake in hand.
NELSON
(mouth
full)
I
can do it.
HARDCASTLE
Kyle
can do it.
KYLE
Yes,
sir. Is there anything else?
HARDCASTLE
Yes.
(points
to TV)
Buy
that car lot and fire that man!
Only
half listening, Nelson calls out automatically.
NELSON
I'll
do it.
HARDCASTLE
All
right, Nelson. It's all yours. It's time you earned your promotion.
Shocked,
Nelson chokes on a mouthful of cake, coughing. Kyle slaps him on the back,
steering him out of the office. Regaining his composure, Nelson looks to Kyle
unhappily.
NELSON
Jeez,
why do I get all the crappy jobs?
CUT TO:
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
We
find ourselves staring into Hardcastle's office from the outside, through the
picture windows behind the old man's desk. Kyle and Nelson leave the room,
Hardcastle turning the television to an old 'Mr. Magoo' cartoon.
INT.
HOTEL ROOM - DAY
Frankie
Mason sits at the window, peering through a camera mounted on a tripod. It's
huge telephoto lens is trained on the building across the way - zeroed in on
Hardcastle's office. The phone rings, Frankie answering it.
FRANKIE
Yeah.
Hey, Sammy! How's it going? Yeah, yeah, I'm working on this week's cover now...
As he
speaks, Frankie turns to the coffee table, where he works on a photo of Sharon
Stone walking arm in arm with a man in a tuxedo. Rummaging through a shoe box,
he removes a cut-out of Don King's face, placing it over the face of the man in
the photo.
FRANKIE
(cont.)
I know
this is an important issue, but I've got something really special this
time...Yes, even better than Arnold Schwarzenegger raised by apes...
(replaces
King's face with Charles Manson)
...
Better than Elvis living in a trailer park in Georgia...
(replaces
Manson with the Pope. Smiles. )
...
Trust me, Sammy, this one'll get you sales and news coverage. I'll send
it over this afternoon... No, I can't come in person, I'm on assignment... No,
I can't tell you about it...
Frankie
leans forward, squinting through the camera once again.
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
We see
into Hardcastle's office, where the old man sits - back to us - laughing as he
watches the cartoon. We hear the click as Frankie snaps a photograph.
FRANKIE
(Cont. - o. s.)
...But
I promise - when this one hits, it'll make us all rich men...
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Kyle
sits at his desk, speaking tiredly into the phone.
KYLE
...No
Mr. Freddy, Mr. Hardcastle asked me to assure you there's no truth to the
rumors... No, sir. He's absolutely not stepping down... That's right... Yes,
sir... Say hello to Mrs. Freddy for me...
Kyle
sighs, hanging up as Darcy steps into the office. He looks up, surprised to see
her.
DARCY
Hello.
KYLE
(by
rote)
No,
there's no truth to the rumors.
DARCY
(confused)
What
rumors?
KYLE
You're
not here about the stuff on the news?
DARCY
No.
I got to thinking about yesterday. I was really flattered that you asked me
out. I felt bad that I couldn't give you an answer.
Kyle
sits back, intrigued.
KYLE
You
did?
DARCY
(stiffly)
Yeah.
So... I was wondering... if you'd still like to go out sometime...
Kyle
can only stare at her a moment, in shock.
KYLE
With
you?
DARCY
No, I
was just wondering in general.
(a
beat)
That's
a joke...
Kyle
laughs, relaxing.
KYLE
Oh.
Sure, I'd love to go out. When did you have in mind?
DARCY
How
about tomorrow night?
KYLE
(rambling)
Sure.
We could meet after work for a drink... or dinner... maybe take in a movie...
drive to Tijuana for a quick wedding...
DARCY
(laughs)
Let's
see how dinner goes first, okay?
KYLE
Okay.
Tomorrow night.
Darcy
nods, giving Kyle a smile as she exits. He watches her go, a satisfied grin on
his face.
KYLE
(to
himself)
Shit...
maybe things aren't so bad after all.
CUT TO:
EXT.
USED CAR LOT - DAY
Plastic
flags snap in the wind over 'TEX ALBERTSON'S STRAIGHT SHOOTIN' USED CARS'. A
long, black limousine is parked at the curb, looking out of place among the
cheap cars on the lot.
INT.
TEX'S OFFICE
TEX
ALBERTSON, decked out in a bright yellow cowboy outfit, ushers Nelson and four
lawyers into his office. Taking a seat behind his desk, Tex seems confused by
his well dressed visitors.
TEX
Come
right on in, gentlemen. Have a seat.
Nelson
sits, the lawyers standing silently behind him.
TEX
So...
what can I do ya for, boys?
NELSON
I'll
get right down to business, Mr. Albertson...
TEX
Tex.
Call me Tex, son. Only my wife and the mechanics call me Mr. Albertson.
Tex
laughs heartily, propping his feet on his desk and lighting a cigar.
NELSON
All
right - Tex. My name is Nelson Furbisch. The gentlemen with me are corporate
lawyers. We represent Hardcastle International. You've heard of us?
TEX
(laughs)
Hell,
who hasn't? I may be a dumb redneck, but I'm also a businessman.
NELSON
Hey,
terrific. The reason I'm here is that Mr. Hardcastle himself saw your
advertisement on television this morning, and was so impressed he authorized me
to come down and purchase every car on your lot.
Tex
takes his feet off his desk, nearly spitting his cigar across the room in
surprise.
TEX
Every
car? That's a lot of impressed, boy. What's he want to do with them?
NELSON
That's
not important. What is important is that I have the funds to pay the full
retail price of every car in cash.
Nelson
sets his briefcase on the desk, opening it to reveal bundles of hundred dollar
bills. Tex's eyes light up in delight.
TEX
Well
son, it looks like we have a deal.
(extends
hand)
It's
a pleasure doing business with you.
Nelson
sits still, ignoring Tex's hand. He speaks coolly.
NELSON
What
particularly impressed Mr. Hardcastle was your obvious self-sacrifice and
dedication to your job. I believe in your commercial you promised to - and I
quote - 'eat a bug to sell you an automobile'. Is that correct?
TEX
(shrugs)
Sure,
I guess so...
NELSON
We
do have a tape of the ad in question if you'd like to refresh your memory.
Beginning
to feel uneasy, Tex eyes Nelson suspiciously.
TEX
Naw,
I said it all right. So what?
NELSON
So
our research tells us that you have 537 cars on this lot. So...
Nelson
nods to the lawyers, who open their briefcases to remove fifteen jars of live
insects. Tex watches in horror as they are lined up on his desk.
NELSON
(cont.)
...
bon appetit.
TEX
Now
wait a minute. I didn't really mean that eatin' a bug stuff. it was just a ploy
to bring in the customers.
Muttering
to each other, the lawyers pull out yellow legal pads, taking notes. Tex
watches anxiously as Nelson stands, closing his briefcase.
NELSON
Sounds
like a blatant case of false advertising to me, Tex. See you in court.
TEX
Hold
on a second...
Staring
at the insects in the jars, Tex pushes a button on his intercom.
TEX
Peggy
- bring me a bottle of Jack Daniels and a pitcher of water.
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
RESTAURANT BAR - NIGHT
The
bar is filled with young executives meeting after work. A crowd is gathered
around a big screen TV, watching the financial news and cheering the action on
Wall Street like a prize fight. Kyle and Nelson sit at the bar, working on
their third or fourth round of drinks.
NELSON
(laughing)
...
So he gets through about the fifth jar of bugs, and I'm starting to get
worried. I never figured the guy would be crazy enough to actually do it.
KYLE
That's
horrible! What kind of bugs were they? Big ones?
NELSON
Big
ones! I mean, these were things you don't even want to step on, forget
about eating them. That's when he decided that maybe selling the car lot wasn't
such a bad idea. Good thing, too - I think I was about to lose the lawyers.
(drains
drink)
God
I love big business!
Kyle
can only shake his head. Nelson looks to him, concerned.
NELSON
Hey,
what's wrong? This is one of the best days of our lives and you're sitting
there moping. We got promoted, Kyle! This is what we've been waiting five years
for. Now we can go to frat reunions and throw up on people with our heads held
high.
KYLE
I
don't know. I've been thinking it over, and I'm not sure I even want to stay
on. He may not get total control, but you know Harrison's still going to run
things. I don't think I'll fit in.
NELSON
What,
are you worried you're not sleazy enough? Most people in that building would
lay off their grandmother for their own parking space. But you care. They're
going to need more people like you when Harrison gets control.
(grins)
They'll
still go bankrupt in three months, but it'll be a nice change of pace.
Kyle
looks up at Nelson, breaking into a smile.
INT.
RESTAURANT BAR - BOOTH
Darcy
sits across the restaurant with a group of women. They've all had a few drinks,
laughing as they unwind after a long day.
SECRETARY
#1
So
tell us, Darcy, is it true? Did you really ask Kyle Merideth to go out with
you?
Darcy
tosses back her drink, looking to the other women defensively.
DARCY
What's
wrong with that?
The
other women laugh knowingly.
SECRETARY
#2
What's
wrong? You can't go out with him. He's a secretary.
DARCY
So?
SECRETARY
#1
So
do female plumbers lust after male plumbers? You have to look for something
better.
Darcy
stares at Kyle and Nelson across the room, speaking thoughtfully.
DARCY
I
don't know - he's kind of cute. He looks like he was the kind of boy who'd
carry your books home from school.
Nelson
notices the women looking over at them. Grinning, he pulls out his wallet and
opens it, flashing his credit cards.
SECRETARY
#2
What
about the guy with him.?
DARCY
He
looks like the kind of boy who'd steal your books and try to trade them for a
blow job.
INT.
BAR
Nelson
slips his wallet back into his pocket as the women stand and leave. Kyle
continues to talk, oblivious.
KYLE
The
problem is that to succeed in business you've got to be a cruel, vicious
asshole. It's the only way to survive.
NELSON
You've
got it backwards. Once you become a powerful businessman you're allowed
to act like a cruel, vicious asshole. It's one of the perks.
KYLE
I'm
not sure I'd want to run some huge corporation. It'd be nice to be able to do
things the way I wanted, but I wouldn't want all the pressure. If I could do it
and still be anonymous, that might be okay.
Nelson
shakes his head in disbelief.
NELSON
(loudly)
Are
you crazy? Being famous is the best part of it! All the attention, the power.
Do you think I want to be promoted just so I can read reports and attend
meetings all day? I want groupies, hangers-on. I want to be brown-nosed!
Applause
breaks out from other junior executives at the bar. Nelson nods graciously.
KYLE
Okay.
Seriously - if you were suddenly in charge of Hardcastle International what
would be the first thing you'd do? Honestly.
Nelson
thinks it over a moment.
NELSON
The
first thing? I'd hire someone else to wash the old man's cars.
Kyle
and Nelson both laugh as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Frankie
sits at the window, dressed only in boxer shorts and a t-shirt, still staring
through the camera. Beer cans and half-eaten room service sandwiches are strewn
about the room. There is a knock at the door, Frankie calling out distractedly.
FRANKIE
Yeah,
it's open.
The
door opens, a beautiful woman stepping into the room. This is BOBBI MASON,
Frankie's wife. She tiptoes up behind him, placing her hands over the camera
lens.
BOBBI
Guess
who?
FRANKIE
Hey,
Bobbi! Come on, don't touch the lens. Can't you see I'm working?
BOBBI
Jeez,
loosen up. I was only trying to inject some fun into our lives.
(peers
out window)
Who're
you spying on?
Frankie
sits back, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
FRANKIE
J.
Austin Hardcastle. Probably the richest man in the country.
Suddenly
interested, Bobbi takes a look through the camera.
BOBBI
Oooh!
What's he doing - dressing in women's clothes?
FRANKIE
No,
he's sleeping. First he was sitting at his desk reading the paper, and now he's
sleeping. This has got to be the most boring job I've had yet. I don't think
the guy's moved for the last hour.
Bobbi
smiles, putting her arms around Frankie as she sits on his lap.
BOBBI
Good.
Then maybe you and I could take advantage of this nice hotel room and nice king
size bed. I won't even get mad if you keep your boxer shorts on again.
FRANKIE
Listen
honey, I'd love to, but I've got to keep an eye across the street. What if
we're in here screwin' around and he wakes up and decides to put on a dress?
Bobbi
stands angrily.
BOBBI
So
an old man in drag is more attractive to you than I am?
FRANKIE
No,
baby. You don't understand, there's a lot of cash involved here. We're talking
a quarter mil for one embarrassing photo. The guy picks his nose and we're on
easy street!
BOBBI
I
don't care. I'm tired of taking second place to your work. You never take me
out anymore. I always sit at home while you're out hobnobbing with celebrities.
FRANKIE
I
don't hobnob. I don't even mingle. I jump out of bushes at them.
BOBBI
So
now you finally call and tell me we're going to spend the night in a nice
hotel, and it turns out you're planning to sit at the window all night staring
through your camera like some peeping tom. It's enough to give a girl a
complex.
Bobbi
begins to cry, rushing into the bathroom. Exasperated, Frankie stands, stepping
away from the camera.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - NIGHT
It's
after hours, and the lights in the office have been dimmed. Kyle and Nelson
step in, weaving slightly from the effects of the liquor.
NELSON
So
- you want to hear the best part about getting promoted?
KYLE
Let
me guess... now you'll have a secretary to organize all the betting pools.
NELSON
Nope.
It's the women. They love men with power. Hell, I love men with power,
so you can imagine how hot it makes women.
Kyle
laughs, pulling a pack of gum from his pocket. He gives a piece to Nelson.
KYLE
Here.
Get rid of our beer breath. You know how he gets.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
The
door opens, Kyle and Nelson stepping inside. Trying to maintain, they walk as
though taking a drunk test on the highway. Hardcastle sits behind his desk,
slumped in his wheelchair, asleep. A copy of the 'Wall Street Journal' in his
hands.
NELSON
(whispering)
You
have to put him in his pajamas tonight.
KYLE
No
way! It's your turn tonight.
NELSON
Come
on, I took him to the bathroom six times today. Give me a break.
KYLE
Okay,
okay...
(steps
to Hardcastle, shaking him gently)
Mr.
Hardcastle? Time to wake up and go to bed, sir.
Hardcastle
doesn't stir. Kyle sighs, glancing up at Nelson.
NELSON
Poke
him.
KYLE
I'm
not going to poke him.
NELSON
It
worked before.
KYLE
Sir?
Time to get up, sir...
Kyle
shakes Hardcastle harder - the old man's head rolling limply to one side. Kyle
and Nelson both jump back in shock, Kyle wiping his hands reflexively on his
pants.
KYLE
Oh
no!
NELSON
Oh
shit!
Hurrying
forward, Kyle drags Hardcastle's limp body out of the wheelchair, laying him
gently on the floor. He begins a crude attempt at C.P.R., looking to Nelson
anxiously.
KYLE
Give
me a hand, would you?
NELSON
What
do I do? Try to scare him?
KYLE
Try
mouth-to-mouth or something.
Nelson
kneels uncertainly over Hardcastle, pinching the old man's nose and breathing
into his mouth.
CUT TO:
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
We
watch through the window as Kyle pounds desperately on Hardcastle's chest while
Nelson administers mouth-to-mouth. In the background we can hear Frankie
speaking to Bobbi through the bathroom door.
FRANKIE
(o.s.)
I
swear honey, just a couple more days. The old guy's bound to do something
flaky. I'll snap the picture, collect the check and we'll take off to Bermuda.
How's that sound?
BOBBI
(o.s.)
You're
sure it'll only be a couple of days?
FRANKIE
(o.s.)
Positive.
Old eagle eyes here never misses his chance. Now will you come out of the
bathroom?
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Bent
over Hardcastle, Nelson suddenly looks up at Kyle, concerned.
NELSON
Wait
a second - what if he's contagious?
KYLE
Is
anything happening?
NELSON
Yeah,
I'm about to throw up. I don't think this is going to work.
KYLE
(desperate)
Maybe
if we walk him around the room he'll snap out of it...
Nelson
takes Kyle's hands from Hardcastle's chest.
NELSON
Forget
it, Kyle. He's dead. His lips are cold. I haven't felt anything like it since I
was married.
Kyle
stands, only to drop into the nearest chair, staring at Hardcastle's body in
disbelief.
KYLE
This
is crazy. I've never found anybody dead before. Shouldn't we throw a blanket
over him or something?
In a
state of shock, Nelson moves to the windows, drawing the curtains out of habit.
NELSON
He's
not the only thing dead here. Our careers are dead, too. He was the only one
who could okay our promotions.
KYLE
That's
a crappy thing to say.
NELSON
It's
crappy, but it's true. When Harrison finds out about this he's going to fire
our heads so fast it'll make your butt spin... or something like that.
Kyle
ignores Nelson, muttering to himself.
KYLE
I
guess we should call the coroner...
Nelson
suddenly brightens, speaking excitedly.
NELSON
Hey!
Why do we have to call anyone? We're the only ones who know about this.
KYLE
Which
is why we have to call someone.
NELSON
No,
what if we don't tell anyone? People don't ever see him, he never goes out in
public, we're the ones who do most of the dirty work for him - who's to know?
Kyle
stands, looking to Nelson in disgust.
KYLE
I
hope you're still drunk, Nelson, because that's the nastiest thing I've ever
heard.
NELSON
(defensive)
What's
nasty about wanting to fulfill a dead man's last wish?
KYLE
(wary)
What're
you talking about?
NELSON
He
spent his last days doing everything he could to make sure this company
wouldn't be taken over by Harrison. And that's just what's going to happen once
it gets out that he's dead.
Kyle
laughs, shaking his head numbly.
KYLE
That's
pretty weak, Nelson. And besides that, it's highly illegal.
NELSON
Hey,
I'm a businessman, I'm not interested in what's legal and what's not. When
Hardcastle was alive he was willing to make a sacrifice to save this company.
Now that he's dead we have to make a sacrifice to see to it his legacy doesn't
die.
Kneeling
by Hardcastle's body, Nelson gently strokes the old man's hair.
NELSON
(cont.)
He
trusted you, Kyle. He even said you could run the business better than
Harrison. He even talked about adopting you, for chrissake.
Nelson
stands, noticing that the palm of his hand is covered with the spray used to
cover Hardcastle's bald spot. Sighing, Kyle stares at Hardcastle's body sadly.
KYLE
There's
no way, Nelson. It's not like we're dealing with some faceless hermit here.
He's a famous man - the richest man in the country. He can't just disappear.
NELSON
How
long can it take to go public? Most of the paperwork's already done. What're we
talking about, a couple days, a week?
KYLE
Two
weeks. Minimum. I talked to the lawyers this afternoon.
Nelson
frowns, glancing around the room thoughtfully. His eyes fall on the hunting
trophies hanging on the walls.
NELSON
I
think I have an idea...
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT
Nelson
tries to force Hardcastle into the back seat of his Volkswagen as Kyle finishes
tying the wheelchair to the roof. Stepping back, he watches Nelson wrestle with
the body.
KYLE
Maybe
we shouldn't be putting him in the back seat. It doesn't seem right.
NELSON
(impatiently)
So
what do you want me to do? If we cram him in the hatch he might stiffen up that
way.
KYLE
No,
I mean maybe I should ride in back and let him have the front. To show some
respect.
NELSON
We're
showing respect. We put him in his best suit, didn't we? Give me a hand, I
think he's caught on something.
Kyle
moves to help Nelson as we...
CUT TO:
EXT.
L.A. FREEWAY - NIGHT
Nelson's
VW. speeds down the freeway, looking anything but inconspicuous with
Hardcastle's wheelchair tied to the roof.
INT.
VOLKSWAGEN
Nelson
drives, Kyle riding shotgun. Hardcastle is wedged awkwardly into the back seat,
dark glasses covering his eyes. Nelson hits the brakes, causing the body to
lurch forward - head resting on Kyle's shoulder. Letting out a scream, Kyle
pushes Hardcastle back into place, shuddering miserably as we...
CUT TO:
EXT.
DOWNTOWN OFFICE BUILDING - NIGHT
Nelson's
car is parked outside a run-down office building.
INT.
OFFICE BUILDING - STAIRWELL
Kyle
and Nelson struggle to get Hardcastle and his wheelchair up the narrow
stairwell. Nelson pulls on the handles at the top, while Kyle pushes from the
bottom.
KYLE
Do
me a favor - if I have a heart attack just bury me, okay?
They
reach the top of the stairs, panting as they lean on the wheelchair. Nelson
cries out, slapping his forehead in disgust.
NELSON
Oh,
crap!
KYLE
What?
What's wrong?
NELSON
I
just realized - I won the 'When-Will-Hardcastle-Kick-the-Bucket' pool and I
can't tell anyone!
Kyle
glares at Nelson.
KYLE
Where
is it?
Nelson
looks around, pointing to a door with the words 'EDWIN NORMAN - TAXIDERMIST TO
THE STARS' painted on the frosted glass window.
INT.
EDWIN'S OFFICE
Kyle
and Nelson wheel Hardcastle into the empty office. The room is decorated with
every example of the taxidermist's art imaginable, the most impressive piece a
moose head hanging on the wall behind the reception desk.
KYLE
You
think he's out?
NELSON
The
door was open...
Nelson
reaches out, ringing the bell on the desk. He and Kyle jump back as the moose
head on the wall comes to life - ears wiggling, eyes blinking, and speaking in
a slow, dopey voice.
MOOSE-HEAD
Howdy,
friends! Welcome to the studio of Edwin Norman, 'Taxidermist to the Stars'.
We're open 24 hours a day to serve all your post-mortem needs. If you'll have a
seat, Mr. Norman will be with you in a moment.
The
moose head lets out a 'Hyuk' as it runs down. Kyle seems doubtful.
KYLE
I
still can't help but feel we're exceeding our authority somehow.
NELSON
Come
on, it's not like we're selling drugs or something. Think about it. The most
influential men of all time have been stuffed - King Tut, Lenin, Mao, L. Ron
Hubbard...
KYLE
L.
Ron Hubbard?
NELSON
The
guy who wrote 'Dianetics'. He's still updating it even though he's been dead
for years. Have I ever told you how 'Dianetics' changed my life... ?
Kyle
and Nelson look up as Edwin steps through a door behind the desk, surprised to
see his three guests. He moves forward eagerly, wiping his hands on a towel and
sniffing his fingers before shaking Kyle and Nelson's hands.
EDWIN
Well,
hello! I usually don't get much business this time of night. Just kids playing
pranks or stealing prosthetics. What a nice surprise.
Kyle
and Nelson frown, sniffing their fingers as Edwin extends his hand to
Hardcastle, who obviously doesn't respond.
NELSON
We've
got another surprise for you.
Kneeling,
Edwin takes Hardcastle's hand sadly.
EDWIN
Oh
my. When did this happen?
KYLE
We
found him about an hour ago.
EDWIN
I'm
sorry to hear it. He was a great man.
KYLE
(nods
solemnly)
A
good boss.
NELSON
A
snappy dresser...
EDWIN
Why
did you bring him here?
Nelson
shifts uneasily. The moment of truth has arrived.
NELSON
We
want to hire you. To... preserve him.
Standing,
Edwin places his hand on Hardcastle's shoulder. He seems puzzled.
EDWIN
How
did you know?
KYLE
How
did we know what?
EDWIN
When
Austin and I were on safari in Kenya in '72 he became very ill. He made me promise
that when his time came I'd take care of him.
KYLE
(shocked)
He
did?
Edwin
begins pinching Hardcastle's cheeks, checking the tightness of the skin.
EDWIN
He
always admired the quiet power and dignity of preserved animals. The noble
moose, the ferocious tiger...
NELSON
(excited)
L.
Ron Hubbard!
EDWIN
Exactly.
I think we should stuff all our great leaders. Presidents, scientists, artists,
sports figures, newscasters. That's strictly a professional opinion, of course.
Kyle
looks to Hardcastle apprehensively.
KYLE
How
long will it take?
EDWIN
This
is a big job. I don't normally carry human accessories. It takes a few days to
order them from back east ...
NELSON
Can't
you improvise or something? We could be in an awkward situation here.
Edwin
thinks it over for a moment.
EDWIN
Coffee's
brewing. You might as well make yourselves comfortable, it's going to be a long
night.
Edwin
pushes Hardcastle through the door to his workshop, Kyle and Nelson staring
after him.
KYLE
(frowns)
The
more I sober up the more impossible this seems.
Nelson
steps to the coffee maker, pouring himself a cup.
NELSON
What
do you mean? Things are going great.
Through
the window in the workshop door we see Edwin arranging and examining a tray of
surgical tools and human prosthetics.
KYLE
Great,
huh? We find our boss dead, don't tell anyone, then get him stuffed so we can
run the business. This isn't your traditional Horatio Alger story.
NELSON
(shrugs)
Times
change. Besides, you act like we're doing this for ourselves. We're saving the
business, remember?
Kyle
sits at the desk, head in his hands.
KYLE
This
situation never came up in ethics class...
They
look up as Edwin steps into the room, opening a pizza box on his desk and
removing a nasty looking cutting tool.
EDWIN
Here
it is...
Edwin
moves back into his workshop, closing the door behind him. Nelson looks to Kyle
patiently.
NELSON
What
else can we do? Even a dead Hardcastle can run things better than a live Palmer
Harrison. It's ideal. Hardcastle is now the perfect businessman - no brain, no
soul, no conscience.
KYLE
This
is beginning to sound like 'The Wizard of Oz'. Who, I might add, got caught
trying this sort of thing.
Edwin
moves past the workshop door, lugging a stiffened Hardcastle over his shoulder.
He draws the shade as Nelson sits on the edge of the desk, not noticing.
NELSON
He
got sloppy, he didn't use good business sense. Anyway, it's a little late for
debates.
Kyle
grimaces as the whine of a cutting tool starts in the next room.
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
EDWIN'S OFFICE - DAY
The
first rays of sunlight are beginning to peek through the blinds. Nelson is
asleep on the couch, clutching one of Edwin's stuffed owls as though it were a
teddy bear. Wide-eyed, Kyle stands at the coffee maker, pouring the last drops
from the pot into his cup. Tie loosened, sleeves rolled up, shirt untucked -
it's obvious Kyle hasn't slept a wink. He jumps as Nelson suddenly bolts
upright, awakening with a yell.
KYLE
What's
the matter? Are you okay?
Nelson
shakes his head, tossing the owl aside in revulsion.
NELSON
Oh, man
- I just had the weirdest dream. I dreamt Edwin did Hardcastle and made him
wear a tutu like those stuffed toads in Tijuana.
(rubs
eyes tiredly)
What
time is it?
KYLE
It's
almost six.
NELSON
Haven't
you slept?
KYLE
Ten
mugs of beer topped off by fifteen cups of coffee - I may never sleep again.
NELSON
Good
thing. You'd probably wet the bed and drown yourself.
Kyle
and Nelson turn as the door to the workshop opens, Edwin wheeling Hardcastle
into the room. The old man looks great - his cheeks are rosy, his posture
straight, he's even got a slight grin on his face.
KYLE
Is
he... ?
EDWIN
(proudly)
He's
all done.
Kyle
and Nelson can only stare at the body, impressed.
NELSON
God,
Edwin. He's... beautiful. He looks more alive than when he was alive.
KYLE
That'll
give us away for sure.
Edwin
leans over the body, picking and preening, adjusting Hardcastle's clothing.
EDWIN
It
was a challenge doing it without all the right parts. Had to take a few
shortcuts I normally wouldn't, but that can't be helped. Also...
Edwin
hands Nelson a spray bottle full of pink liquid.
EDWIN
(cont.)
...
spray him with this once a day. It'll keep his skin soft and supple. And try to
keep him in a cool place. As a matter of fact, if you know anyone who owns a
meat locker...
Nelson
moves to shake Edwin's hand.
NELSON
Another
great job, Edwin. How much do we owe you?
EDWIN
Owe
me?
NELSON
Well,
yeah. You put in a lot of work here.
Edwin
seems genuinely offended.
EDWIN
That's
not the point. I did this out of love and respect. Working on Mr. Hardcastle
was an honor that could only be tainted by accepting money.
NELSON
I'm
sorry, Edwin. I just wanted to show our appreciation...
EDWIN
Actually,
there is something you could do. I publish a small taxidermy magazine, and any
donation would be a great help.
Smiling
generously, Nelson takes out his checkbook.
NELSON
How
much is a subscription?
EDWIN
A
hundred thousand dollars.
Laughing
weakly, Nelson sniffs his fingers, Edwin flashing a cunning grin as we...
CUT TO:
EXT.
HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL - PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Nelson's
VW pulls into the garage during the morning rush hour.
INT.
VOLKSWAGEN
As
they wait in a long line of cars Kyle looks to Nelson anxiously - shielding his
eyes from Hardcastle in the back seat with his hand.
KYLE
We're
going to get caught, I can feel it. We would have to get here just as everyone
else is arriving for work.
(nods
to body)
And
your air conditioner picked a hell of a time to go on the fritz.
NELSON
If
you hadn't made me stop six times so you could go to the bathroom maybe we'd
have gotten here a little quicker.
The
car inches past the guard station, a group of Parking Valets stepping out when
they see Nelson's car. One of the men leans in the drivers window, grinning
smugly.
VALET #1
Hold
on, Fartface. Where do you think you're going?
NELSON
(calmly)
Furbisch.
I'm going to park. This is a parking garage.
VALET #1
But
this section is reserved for executives only. And unless hell froze over and I
didn't hear about it, you aren't an executive.
NELSON
But
we do have an executive in the car.
Nelson
motions to the back seat, where Hardcastle sits. Recognizing their passenger,
the Valet's mouth drops open in surprise. Nelson flashes a cocky smile.
NELSON
Can
I park now, please?
VALET #1
(snaps
to attention)
Yes,
sir. Will there be anything else, Mr. Furbisch?
NELSON
(considers)
Now
that you mention it - would you be so kind as to wash my car? There's a dollar
in it for you.
VALET #1
(tight
lipped)
Yes,
sir.
Turning
to Kyle, Nelson raises his eyebrows playfully.
NELSON
Piece
of cake.
CUT TO:
INT.
HIGHRISE - LOBBY - DAY
The
usual snarl of workers crowd the lobby, fighting their way onto the elevators
as Kyle and Nelson enter, pushing Hardcastle. Everyone turns, a hush falling
over the lobby at the sight of the old man. Kyle speaks out of the corner of
his mouth.
KYLE
If
we turn around right now we could probably make it to the airport before the
police...
NELSON
Just
be nonchalant. Don't attract attention.
KYLE
(sickly)
What
if I throw up?
NELSON
Only
if we need a diversion.
Kyle
and Nelson begin to wheel Hardcastle through the crowd, the mob parting
reverently to let him through. Nelson steers the wheelchair, a huge grin on his
face, while Kyle looks as though he's about to create a diversion.
WORKERS
Hello,
Mr. Hardcastle... Good morning, sir... Nice to see you, Mr. Hardcastle...
They
make their way to the executive elevator, where the Elevator Boy greets them
graciously.
ELEVATOR
BOY
Hello,
Mr. Hardcastle. It's an honor to have you ride my elevator. Well, your
elevator, actually. But it's still an honor, sir.
Nelson
wheels Hardcastle into the elevator, Kyle following. As the doors slide shut
Nelson turns to Kyle, whispering smugly.
NELSON
Piece
of cake.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE - DAY
Golf
club in hand, Harrison lines himself up with a ball resting on a plastic tee.
Bringing the club up slowly he suddenly swings - driving the ball out an open
window. He sets up another ball when Darcy steps into the office.
DARCY
Excuse
me, sir. Mr. Howard from the legal department is here to see you.
HARRISON
Howard?
What does that little slug want now?
DARCY
I
don't know. He says it's important.
HARRISON
All
right, send him in. But if he's not out in five minutes buzz me with an urgent
phone call or something.
DARCY
Yes,
sir.
Harrison
puts the club back into his golf bag as MR. HOWARD enters. A short, nervous
looking man, he seems very intimidated by Harrison. Sweat stains spreading
under the arms of his suit coat, he speaks like a machine gun firing.
MR.
HOWARD
Hello,
Mr. Harrison. Thank you for seeing me without an appointment, sir.
HARRISON
Yes,
yes. What is it, Howard?
MR.
HOWARD
Well,
you see, Mr. Harrison, I was working in my cubicle downstairs in the legal
department when I overheard the man in the next cubicle - you see, the walls
are only made of plasterboard and they're only five feet high, so it's very
easy to overhear conversations even without trying...
Taking
a seat behind his desk, Harrison cuts in impatiently.
HARRISON
Get
to the point, please.
MR.
HOWARD
Oh,
yes sir. Of course. I'm sorry if I digressed there for a moment from the main
thrust of my narrative...
Harrison
glares at Mr. Howard angrily, causing him to speak even faster.
MR.
HOWARD (cont.)
...
Anyway, as I was saying, I overheard the man in the next cubicle - a Mr. Lowry
- speaking over the phone to one of Mr. Hardcastle's secretaries and it seems
that the reports on the TV were true, Mr. Hardcastle has made the decision to
retire from the company...
Eyes
glinting, Harrison stands, grabbing Mr. Howard by the tie and dragging him
halfway across his desk.
HARRISON
He's
retiring? Are you certain?
MR.
HOWARD
(choking)
Yes,
sir. Positive.
Harrison
lets Mr. Howard go, the lawyer slumping to the floor.
HARRISON
I don't
believe it - he's giving in without a fight. That's not like him.
(chuckles
nastily)
Maybe
he's sick...
MR.
HOWARD
(kneeling)
Excuse
me, sir - but that's not the only thing...
Grabbing
Mr. Howard by the lapels, Harrison yanks him to his feet.
HARRISON
What
do you mean?
MR.
HOWARD
(faster
than ever)
I
mean that I also overheard them say that Mr. Hardcastle plans to retire after
placing the company on the New York Stock Exchange. They said something about
not wanting one man to run the company. I got the impression they were talking
about one particular man, as they kept using terms like 'asshole' and
'dickhead' and such. They're holding a press conference this morning to
announce their decision.
HARRISON
This
morning? When this morning?
MR.
HOWARD
Regrettably
I failed to catch that part of the conversation.
Harrison
lets go of Mr. Howard's lapels, looking to him in desperation.
HARRISON
What
can I do to stop this?
MR.
HOWARD
(in
one breath)
Actually
sir, if you let the process continue you could conceivably form a consortium to
buy a majority of stock, thereby guaranteeing the right to pick your own board
of directors, while installing yourself as the chairman of said board. But if
you insist on trying to stop the sale of stock altogether I'd suggest you try
to prove your uncle senile and incapable of making daily business decisions. As
his only living heir and logical next in line to inherit this company that
might be an effective course to navigate in a situation such as you find
yourself now.
Dizzy,
Mr. Howard takes a deep breath, leaning against the desk for support. Harrison
grins.
HARRISON
Do
it.
MR.
HOWARD
(gasping)
Excuse
me, sir, but do what?
HARRISON
You
take care of the legal stuff, and I'll take care of my uncle.
Mr.
Howard backpedals to the door.
MR.
HOWARD
The
legal stuff... yes. sir. Thank you once again for seeing me on such short
notice. Well, no notice actually. I appreciate the fact that you're such a busy
man and yet still find time to see a lowly employee like myself...
Stepping
out of the office, Mr. Howard closes the door behind him. Harrison presses a button
on his intercom.
HARRISON
Miss
Vanderwood. In my office. Now.
(no
reply)
Miss
Vanderwood?
Still
no reply. Grumbling, Harrison moves to the door - opening it to reveal Mr.
Howard standing on the other side, flipping him off. Jumping back in surprise,
Mr. Howard quickly scurries away. Harrison glances around the empty reception
area angrily.
HARRISON
(shouting)
Miss
Vanderwood!
CUT TO:
INT.
LADIES LOUNGE - DAY
Darcy
sits on the couch, thumbing through a copy of 'Backlash'. She ignores the Young
Executive, who pleads with her through a crack in the door.
YOUNG
EXECUTIVE
Just
give me a chance. I've got a great personality... Look, I'm sliding the keys to
my Porsche under the door, you can check it out... keep it... !
Darcy
sighs as a set of car keys slide under the door.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - DAY
The
door bursts open, Kyle and Nelson hurrying inside. Kyle quickly closes the door
behind them.
KYLE
I
can't believe nobody stopped us. They just took it for granted that he was alive.
NELSON
What
did you expect them to do - stop and take his pulse?
KYLE
Yes.
Nelson wheels Hardcastle into
place behind his desk.
KYLE
So...
what do we do now?
NELSON
The
same thing we do every day. It's got to be like nothing's happened. Business as
usual.
(opens
curtains, turning to Kyle)
What's
on the agenda today?
KYLE
I
don't know. The appointment book's on my desk. And if I'm lucky there'll be a
gun in the drawer.
Kyle
starts for the door.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE
Kyle
steps into the office, surprised to see a man waiting. A PHOTOGRAPHER, he
carries a camera bag slung over his shoulder.
KYLE
(startled)
What
are you doing here?
PHOTOGRAPHER
Uh,
I have an appointment. I'm here to take a photo of Mr. Hardcastle for the
year-end stockholders report.
Frowning
suspiciously, Kyle rifles through his appointment book. He slumps forward,
elbows on his desk and head lowered.
KYLE
Oh,
shit. You are.
PHOTOGRAPHER
(shrugs)
Sorry.
The
Photographer watches, confused, as Kyle begins cleaning out his desk, dumping
the contents of the drawers into his briefcase. After a moment Nelson steps in,
sizing up the situation.
NELSON
What're
you doing?
KYLE
Clearing
out my desk.
NELSON
Why?
Kyle
cooks his thumb at the Photographer.
KYLE
This
guy's here to take pictures of Hardcastle.
PHOTOGRAPHER
(shifts
uneasily)
Sorry.
A grin
breaks out on Nelson's face as he steps forward, shaking the Photographer's
hand and slapping him on the back.
NELSON
Don't
worry about it. You just caught us by surprise, that's all. I'm sure Mr.
Hardcastle will be more than happy to sit still for a few photos.
Ushering
the Photographer into Hardcastle's office, Nelson turns back to Kyle.
NELSON
I'll
take care of this, you deal with whatever's next on the agenda.
Kyle
glances at the appointment book, looking up at Nelson, panicked.
KYLE
It's
the press conference.
NELSON
When
does it start?
KYLE
Five
minutes ago.
NELSON
Piece
of cake.
Flashing
a reassuring grin, Nelson gives the thumbs-up sign. Kyle rolls his eyes
heavenward as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
PRESS ROOM - DAY
Kyle
rushes into the room from a side door, finding himself on a small stage. The
room is stuffed wall to wall with reporters, cameramen and photographers, who
glare up at him impatiently. Stepping to a podium, Kyle winces as the TV
cameras turn on their flood lights. He tries to smile as he speaks into the
microphone.
KYLE
I'm
sure you're wondering why I've called you all here today.
Kyle
laughs weakly, staring out at a sea of stone faces. He improvises his
announcement, flustered and unprepared.
KYLE
(cont.)
Right.
Anyway, I'm Kyle Merideth, and I've been asked to announce that J. Austin
Hardcastle, founder, Chairman of the Board and sole owner of Hardcastle
International will step down after supervising the transfer of ownership from
himself to the public. Did that make any sense?
There
are mumbles and shrugs from the press corps.
KYLE
He's
retiring after making stock available to the public.
A
murmur of comprehension sweeps the room, flashbulbs popping furiously as
reporters shout questions to Kyle.
TIMES
REPORTER
Mr.
Merideth - Los Angeles Times. What prompted Mr. Hardcastle's decision?
JOURNAL
REPORTER
Wall
Street Journal. What impact will this have on the business financially?
PEOPLE
REPORTER
People
magazine - is Mr. Hardcastle dating anyone at the moment?
Kyle
holds up his hands in mock surrender.
KYLE
Hold
it, hold it. I'm afraid I can't answer your questions. All I know is what I've
told you.
Suddenly
a familiar voice rings out from the back of the room.
HARRISON
(o.s.)
I
can answer your questions.
Everyone
turns as Harrison strides to the front of the room. Kyle lowers his head,
speaking under his breath - his words picked up by the sensitive microphone.
KYLE
Oh,
shit...
He
looks up, embarrassed, as Harrison takes the stage.
HARRISON
'Oh,
shit' is right, you little asswipe.
TIMES
REPORTER
(calls
out)
What
can you tell us about this, Mr. Harrison?
HARRISON
I can
tell you that my uncle is not himself. He's a shell of the man he used to be.
Nothing more than a pawn, manipulated by those in his inner circle for their
own interests.
(points
to Kyle)
People
like this man, who wheel him around like a piece of baggage while running the
business for themselves.
As
Harrison speaks, Kyle edges slowly off the stage. He grins uneasily, speaking
to a couple of reporters standing near the side door.
KYLE
Pardon
me, but I have some cleaning to finish up. It's been nice talking with you...
Kyle
slips out the door as reporters continue to question Harrison.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Eyes
glassy, Kyle steps into the office - silently continuing to clear out his desk.
The door to Hardcastle's office opens, Nelson and the Photographer stepping
out.
PHOTOGRAPHER
I
can' t believe it. I mean, I've taken Mr. Hardcastle's picture before and he
was always so cranky and fidgety. But this time he was so cooperative.
NELSON
It's
part of his new image.
PHOTOGRAPHER
I
knew there was something different when I saw him. He looks healthier. He's
filled out some, put on a little weight.
NELSON
He's
on a high fiber diet.
Nelson
opens the door, the Photographer giving a friendly nod as he leaves. Kyle
stares at Nelson in disbelief.
KYLE
He
didn't notice anything wrong? Like the fact that he wasn't moving or breathing?
NELSON
All
he wanted was to get his pictures and get out without a hassle. How'd the press
conference go?
KYLE
Wonderful.
Halfway through Harrison bursts in and announces that his uncle is a shell of
his former self and is being manipulated by others. You want me to clean out
your desk, too?
Nelson
shrugs, unconcerned. He grabs the spray bottle that Edwin gave him from his
desk.
NELSON
Lucky
guess. I'm gonna give the old man his daily squirt. Give me a buzz if something
comes up.
INT. 20TH FLOOR - LOBBY
The
Photographer stands waiting for the elevator. The doors slide open and he steps
in as across the room the doors to the executive elevator open, Harrison
stepping out. He makes a beeline for Hardcastle's office.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE
Kyle
jumps as the door bursts open, Harrison storming in. Noticing Kyle's desk,
Harrison gives him a nasty grin.
HARRISON
Going
somewhere?
KYLE
Uh,
no... I mean yes. Um... Nelson and I are trading desks, so I thought I'd pack
my stuff up so nothing gets lost in the move.
HARRISON
Cut
the crap. I want to see my uncle.
KYLE
You
can't.
HARRISON
Like
hell I can't.
Harrison
starts for the door to Hardcastle's office. Moving quickly, Kyle switches on
his intercom as he lunges to block Harrison's way.
KYLE
No,
really. He's very busy right now. I can check his schedule, I think he could
fit you in in about two months...
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Nelson
squirts Hardcastle's face with the spray bottle, wiping him down with a rag
like the windshield of a car. He glances up as Harrison's voice comes over the
intercom.
HARRISON
(v.o.)
I'm
going to see my uncle, you little shitheel. And I don't care if I have to go
through you and the door to do it.
NELSON
Uh-oh...
Tossing
the spray bottle and rag in a desk drawer, Nelson frantically wheels Hardcastle
around the room, looking for a place to hide.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE
Beginning
to sweat, Kyle continues to block the door, speaking to Harrison calmly.
KYLE
Honestly,
don't you think you're getting just a little hostile here?
Harrison
grabs Kyle by the arm, shoving him aside as he opens the door.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Bursting
into the office, Harrison stops short. A grimace on his face, Kyle steps in,
shocked to find the room empty - Hardcastle nowhere to be found. Harrison turns
to Kyle suspiciously.
HARRISON
I
thought he was in here.
KYLE
(baffled)
So
did I...
Moving
to the nearest door, Harrison throws it open to reveal Hardcastle's bedroom.
Empty. He moves to the next door, only to find the dining room. Also empty.
Stepping to a third door, he opens it to find...
INT.
BATHROOM
...
Hardcastle sitting on the toilet, pants around his ankles and a copy of the
Wall Street Journal in his outstretched hands. There is a grunt of annoy and
surprise as...
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
...
Harrison takes a step back, calling to his uncle apologetically.
HARRISON
Oh!
Excuse me, I didn't know... I mean... I'll come back later.
Flashing
Kyle a hateful, embarrassed glance Harrison hurries out the door. Kyle looks
into the bathroom as the shower curtain is drawn back, Nelson standing in the
stall. Kyle stares at him grimly.
KYLE
(sarcastically)
Piece
of cake...
Nelson
grins sheepishly.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Harrison
storms in, barking at Darcy impatiently as he heads for his office.
HARRISON
Miss
Vanderwood - in my office. Now.
DARCY
Mr.
Mason is here to see you, sir.
Harrison
turns to see Frankie sprawled on the sofa, asleep. He steps over, nudging the
photographer roughly.
HARRISON
What
are you doing here? You're supposed to be keeping an eye on my uncle's office.
Frankie
wakes with a start, sitting up. Groggy, he takes an envelope from his pocket,
handing it to Harrison.
FRANKIE
(yawns)
I
have been. Here's the pictures I got yesterday.
Harrison
takes the envelope, pulling out a series of photographs showing the back of
Hardcastle's head as he sits at his desk, reading the paper... watching TV...
sleeping.
HARRISON
No, no,
no - these are no good. You can't even see his face.
(finds
photo through window of women's restroom)
This
one's not bad...
FRANKIE
What
do you expect? It's dead in there. The guy barely moves. I don't even think he
goes to the bathroom.
HARRISON
(frowns)
Yes,
well, I can vouch for that...
FRANKIE
Maybe
we should try something else. I'm not sure if I'm gonna get anything peeking
through the window.
Harrison
examines a series of photographs showing Hardcastle waking up in his chair to
catch Kyle and Nelson watching a Playboy video on the big screen TV. He turns
to Darcy.
HARRISON
Miss
Vanderwood - have you made contact with one of his secretaries yet?
Darcy
nods unenthusiastically.
DARCY
Yes,
sir. I have a date with one of them tonight.
HARRISON
Which
one?
DARCY
Kyle
Merideth.
Harrison
shakes his head worriedly.
HARRISON
I'd
rather have you work on Fosditch. He seems... hornier.
Darcy
gives him a dirty look.
HARRISON
(cont.)
No
matter. Just be sure to get whatever you can out of him.
Turning,
Harrison finds Frankie back on the sofa, asleep. He kicks his feet, waking him.
HARRISON
(cont.)
And
you get back to your post!
FRANKIE
(sighs)
All
right, all right - but I'm telling you, nothing ever happens up there...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
The
room is filled with reporters, flashbulbs flashing as they press toward Kyle
and Nelson, who desperately guard the door to Hardcastle's office. Kyle calls
out over their questions.
KYLE
I'm
sorry - you'll all have to leave! Mr. Hardcastle is not speaking to anyone. You
heard his statement at the press conference.
TIMES
REPORTER
Weld
like him to comment on allegations that he's unfit to run the business.
Nelson
jumps on top of his desk, calling out wildly.
NELSON
I'm
Mr. Hardcastle's personal secretary. I can answer any questions you may have.
JOURNAL
REPORTER
What
about Mr. Harrison's charge that thieves and opportunists are now running the
business in Mr. Hardcastle's place?
NELSON
No
comment.
TIMES
REPORTER
Are
you one of the men Mr. Harrison was referring to?
NELSON
No
comment.
PEOPLE
REPORTER
If
you are one of the men - are you dating anyone at the moment?
NELSON
That's
all Mr. Hardcastle has to say at this time. Leave now or we'll be forced to
call the police.
Nelson
glances to Kyle, who shakes his head anxiously.
NELSON
(cont.)
Okay,
we won't call the police, but you'll be sorry...
The
reporters leave the office, grumbling unhappily. Nelson hops off the desktop as
Kyle steps forward, mechanically continuing to clear out his desk.
NELSON
I
should run for office. What're you still doing that for?
KYLE
We'll
never pull this off, Nelson. Not after all this...
NELSON
Come
on, look at the bright side for a change. If we got through this we can get
through anything. How much worse can it get?
KYLE
Considering
that it's not even lunch yet, I don't really want to think about it.
NELSON
You
worry too much. The hard part's over. If we can just minimize our surprises
everything should be okay.
The
'ding' of an elevator arriving can be heard from the lobby. Kyle looks up to
see Darcy heading toward the office. He turns to Nelson, smiling weakly.
KYLE
Surprise.
Darcy
steps into the office. She moves to Kyle's desk, glancing uneasily at Nelson,
who stares at her dumbly.
DARCY
Hi.
I thought I'd come up and refresh your memory. We're still on for tonight,
right?
KYLE
(lying)
Oh,
yeah. I remembered. It's been the only thing on my mind. I didn't even sleep
last night.
Darcy
smiles, flattered.
DARCY
Okay,
great. I'll see you tonight.
KYLE
Right.
Tonight.
As
Darcy turns to leave Nelson stops her, shaking her hand.
NELSON
Hi,
I'm Nelson's friend Kyle.
DARCY
No,
you're Kyle's friend Nelson.
NELSON
(nods
agreeably)
Okay.
Giving
Nelson an odd look, Darcy removes her hand from his, hurrying out the door.
Nelson turns to Kyle in amazement.
NELSON
You
actually asked her out? And she said yes?
KYLE
In
a roundabout sort of way...
Nelson
watches as Darcy walks across the lobby, stepping into an elevator.
NELSON
(teasing)
I
knew it. She digs me, I can tell.
KYLE
Digs
you? I'm the one she's going out with!
NELSON
Sure
- to get to me. Why do you think she was giving me the eye in the bar last
night? And why didn't you tell me about this?
KYLE
(irritated)
I
forgot. I've had a few other things on my mind, all right?
Kyle
turns, heading into Hardcastle's office, Nelson on his heels.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
They
enter, Kyle heading straight for the bar, where he mixes himself a strong
drink. Nelson flops into a chair in front of Hardcastle's desk, where the old
man sits, staring into space.
NELSON
So
where are you taking her?
KYLE
I
don't know. I didn't make any reservations. You think she'd mind eating at
Denny's?
NELSON
You
don't take a girl like that to Denny's. You've got to take her someplace nice -
someplace like Spago, Morton's, Marie Calendar's.
Drink
in hand, Kyle paces the room miserably.
KYLE
There's
no way I'm going to get a table anywhere like that. I just want a place where
they don't have puzzles and games on the place mats.
Nelson
grins as an idea hits him. He swivels the chair to face Kyle.
NELSON
You
know, that's always been your problem - no imagination.
KYLE
What
do you mean, no imagination? Right now I'm imagining that I'm perfectly sane.
And why are you smiling like that?
Nelson
stands, gesturing to the room around them.
NELSON
Look
around you. You're in control of one of the richest businesses in the world and
you're worried about whether or not you can get a table at a fancy restaurant?
Christ, Kyle - if J. Austin Hardcastle wants a good meal he doesn't go to a
restaurant, the restaurant cones to him.
KYLE
I
don't know, Nelson. I don't want to abuse our position...
NELSON
Forget
that. We're the ones taking a risk here...
(puts
hand on Hardcastle's shoulder)
...
not him. He's already done his part. But us - if we get caught, we're in
trouble. I say we take advantage of the situation while we can. What do you
say?
Kyle
looks to Nelson, a grin spreading slowly across his face as we...
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
CITY STREET - NIGHT
One of
Hardcastle's limousines cruises down the street - wheelchair tied to the roof.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Nelson
drives, Hardcastle propped up in the back seat. Steering with one hand, Nelson
holds a car phone in the other.
NELSON
(into
receiver)
Edwin.
This is Nelson. I'm bringing Mr. Hardcastle in for the new eyes you called
about. How do they look?... No, I know they don't look - are they
realistic?... No, I don't want to go with the 'Paul Newman Blue'. I want them
the same color as before. I'll be there in about twenty minutes.
As
Nelson hangs up we hear a loud BANG, the car swerving violently to one side.
Fighting the steering wheel, Nelson accidentally tears the receiver from the
car phone. He calls back to Hardcastle, who tips over to one side.
NELSON
Hold
on, sir... ooops, I mean... oh, forget it...
EXT.
CITY STREET - CURBSIDE
The
limousine comes to a halt in front of a downtown nightclub. A crowd of people
stare with interest as Nelson climbs out, spotting a flat front tire.
NELSON
Great.
Why do these things always happen to me?
Glancing
at the phone receiver in his hand, Nelson stuffs it into his coat pocket. He
steps to the nightclub box office, speaking to the TICKET GIRL. He doesn't
notice the crowd of people gathering around the limousine, curious to see who's
inside.
NELSON
Can
I use your phone? One of the tires on my car is broken.
TICKET
GIRL
There's
a phone inside.
Relieved,
Nelson starts for the club entrance.
NELSON
Great,
thanks.
TICKET
GIRL
(calling
out)
That'll
be fifteen dollars.
NELSON
No,
you don't understand. I just want to use the phone...
TICKET
GIRL
Fifteen
dollars to go in.
Scowling,
Nelson pulls out his wallet, slipping the Ticket Girl some bills. Turning back
to the limousine he sees several kids opening the back door, looking inside.
NELSON
Hey!
Get away from that car! It's private property!
Hurrying
to the curb Nelson shoos the kids away. Sighing, he unstraps the wheelchair
from the roof, setting it on the sidewalk. Reaching into the back seat he
pretends to help Hardcastle into the chair as best he can. A fashionably
dressed YOUNG MAN steps forward, gazing at Hardcastle intently.
YOUNG
MAN
What's
wrong with him? He looks like he's dead or something.
Nelson's
hand pistons out, grabbing the Young Man by the shirtfront. Eyes flashing, he
speaks slowly and deliberately.
NELSON
He's
not dead. He's just very old. Got it?
YOUNG
MAN
(surprised)
Yeah,
yeah. No problem!
Releasing
his grip, Nelson wheels Hardcastle toward the nightclub entrance - the Ticket
Girl calling out:
TICKET
GIRL
That'll
be fifteen dollars!
CUT TO:
EXT.
ROOFTOP GARDEN - NIGHT
The
lights of L.A. stretched out before them, Kyle and Darcy sit in the garden,
enjoying a candlelight dinner. Darcy is enchanted by the lush setting, violins
playing softly in the background.
DARCY
This
is amazing. I didn't even know this was up here.
KYLE
Hardly
anyone does. Mr. Hardcastle calls it his 'private island'.
DARCY
Oh,
really? How long has he allowed his secretaries to bring dates up here?
KYLE
It's
a new policy. More wine?
Darcy
nods, Kyle taking a bottle of wine from an ice bucket and refilling their
glasses. Darcy looks around the garden.
DARCY
You
know, Mr. Hardcastle never struck me as the kind of person who'd spend his
money this way.
KYLE
That's
one of the problems with staying out of the public eye as long as he has.
People figure he's either some tight-fisted tyrant or a crazy old man who pees
in mason jars.
(pauses)
I'm
sorry. That's not the nicest thing to say as you're pouring wine.
DARCY
(smiles)
This
is all very impressive. The setting, appetizers from Spago, the main course
from Morton's...
A WAITER
steps up, setting a platter of desserts on the table before them.
WAITER
Your
dessert from La Maison du Merde...
Kyle
hands him a credit card.
KYLE
Mr.
Hardcastle is paying. I'll sign.
WAITER
Yes,
sir. It's an honor to serve friends of Mr. Hardcastle.
(snaps
fingers, a violinist stepping up)
We're
pleased to supply a violinist at no extra charge.
The
violinist begins playing, Kyle frowning distractedly.
KYLE
You,
too? Just put him with the others...
Kyle
points to a group of violinists standing amongst the foliage, playing softly.
CUT TO:
INT.
NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT
Nelson
and Hardcastle sit at a table, having a drink with two YOUNG WOMEN.
NELSON
...
Then these terrorists try to hijack the limo and kidnap me and J. Austin here.
So I flip open a panel on the dashboard and press the button that activates the
machine guns...
YOUNG
WOMAN #1
(impressed)
Your
limo has machine guns?
NELSON
A
few. Machine guns, flame throwers, a compact disc player. Do you want to see?
It's right outside.
The
second Young Woman looks at Nelson skeptically.
YOUNG
WOMAN #2
I
don't believe this for a minute.
NELSON
It's
true! It's got lasers and everything - great for traffic jams. I'm prepared for
every emergency. By the way, do either of you know how to fix a flat tire?
INT.
NIGHTCLUB - BAR
Bobbi
Mason sits at the bar with a girlfriend (SHIRLEY), speaking loudly as she
surveys the dance floor.
BOBBI
I
swear, it's been forty-eight hours of pure boredom, Shirley. We're given a
thousand dollar a night hotel room, a huge expense account, and all my lump of
a husband does is sit at the window staring through a camera, drinking beer and
eating cheese puffs. This is the first time I've been out in days.
SHIRLEY
(concerned)
Maybe
you should slow down a little, Bobbi. I think you've had a few too many.
BOBBI
I
haven't even had a drink yet!
Bobbi's
eyes light up as she recognizes someone on the dance floor. She laughs
bitterly.
SHIRLEY
What
is it?
BOBBI
That
guy my jerk husband is trying to photograph. He's here dancing while Frankie is
sitting on a porta-potty wondering why nothing's happening.
SHIRLEY
Are
you sure?
Taking
a pen from her purse, she scribbles instructions onto a napkin.
BOBBI
You bet
I'm sure. I've been staring at him for two days straight.
(slides
napkin to Shirley)
Here.
Give me five minutes, then call every newspaper in town and tell them to watch
this address. I think it's time I taught my husband a lesson.
Grinning
cruelly, Bobbi steps away from the bar.
INT.
NIGHTCLUB - DANCE FLOOR
Nelson
and Hardcastle dance with the two Young Women - Nelson maneuvering the
wheelchair around the dance floor in time with the music. The second Young
Woman eyes Hardcastle strangely.
YOUNG
WOMAN #2
Your
friend sure doesn't say much.
NELSON
He's
been through a lot lately. Just a shell of his former self. Right, boss?
Laughing,
Nelson slaps Hardcastle on the back - his dark glasses falling off to reveal a
pair of glass cat eyes. The Young Women shriek, everyone on the dance floor
turning as Nelson hurriedly retrieves the glasses, putting them back in place.
He calls after the Young Women, who scurry away.
NELSON
See?
What a joker, huh? Contact lenses. Had them made special. What about my flat
tire?
Bobbi
steps up behind him, placing her hand on his shoulder and whispering in his ear
seductively.
BOBBI
Hello,
Nelson. Having fun?
Surprised,
Nelson turns.
NELSON
Excuse
me?
BOBBI
(smiles)
You're
Nelson Florsheim, and if I'm not mistaken, the gentleman in the wheelchair is
J. Austin Hardcastle.
NELSON
Furbisch.
Do I know you?
BOBBI
No.
What would you say if I told you I wanted to go back to your office and fool
around?
NELSON
(thinks)
Can
you change a flat?
CUT TO:
EXT.
ROOFTOP GARDEN - NIGHT
Glasses
of champagne in hand, Kyle and Darcy wander through the gardens... followed by
at least a dozen violinists.
DARCY
You
know, all night I've been dying to ask you something.
KYLE
No,
this isn't a toupee.
Darcy
laughs, Kyle joining her politely.
DARCY
No,
seriously. What's it like to work for Mr. Hardcastle? It must be pretty
exciting.
KYLE
It
has its moments.
DARCY
Well,
what's he like? Is he a tough boss?
Kyle
smiles uneasily.
KYLE
He's
very quiet. Look, I don't mean to be rude, but could we talk about something
besides business? It's been a hard couple of days.
Darcy
stops in her tracks, surprised.
DARCY
You're
kidding. I never thought I'd hear that.
KYLE
What?
DARCY
A
man who doesn't want to talk business. It seems like that's all they
want to talk about anymore. It's the new machismo. Men don't want to be judged
by the bulge in their crotch, just the one in their wallet.
Kyle
grins, a little taken aback.
KYLE
Yeah,
well I tried stuffing toilet paper into my wallet once but it didn't help.
Darcy
laughs, Kyle looking at her seriously.
KYLE
Can
I ask you something? I want you to be honest. Why did you decide to go out with
me tonight? Did someone put you up to this?
Darcy
chokes on her champagne, quickly regaining her composure.
DARCY
What?
KYLE
Did
Nelson bribe you to go out with me? One time in college I had a crush on this
girl, and he got her to go out with me by telling her I had a terminal disease.
You're acting like she did.
DARCY
I
am? How am I acting?
KYLE
Like
you're trying awfully hard to look like you're enjoying yourself. But at least
you're not wearing a surgical mask and rubber gloves.
DARCY
I am
enjoying myself. I'm here because I want to be, Kyle. No other reason.
KYLE
Are
you sure?
Darcy
gives him a reassuring grin.
DARCY
I'm
sure.
Kyle
smiles. They step to the railing, looking out over the lights of the city as
the violinists continue to play.
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
We
watch through Frankie Mason's camera as Kyle and Darcy lean against the
railing. He grumbles, bored.
FRANKIE
(o.s.)
Jesus,
this guy would take three hours to make a pass in a brothel.
CUT TO:
INT.
HOTEL ROOM - NIGHT
Frankie
leans back in his chair, rummaging through the cracker boxes and potato chip
bags at his feet. He grabs a bag of cheese puffs, licking his fingers to pick
up the crumbs at the bottom.
FRANKIE
(mutters)
I
sit up here for three days so I can photograph the back of some old guy's head.
I never should've quit taking baby pictures at K-Mart. At least I got more
action.
Leaning
forward with a sigh, Frankie peers through the camera.
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
Kyle
and Darcy still stand at the railing, talking. The camera tilts downward to
Hardcastle's office, where the curtains have been opened. The room is dark, but
we can make out the figure of a woman standing in front of Hardcastle's
wheelchair, slowly undressing. Back to us, the figure in the wheelchair sits
very still, half empty bottle of wine in hand.
FRANKIE
(o.s.)
All
right! It's about time you woke up, you dirty old man. Now if only you'd do it
with the lights on I'd be in business...
The
woman drunkenly removes her bra, stepping to the wheelchair.
INT.
HOTEL ROOM
Moving
quickly, Frankie pops the lens off his camera. Rummaging through a duffel bag
he pulls out a bigger lens, laughing to himself as he twists it into place.
FRANKIE
A
million from 'People'... a million from the 'Enquirer'... and, if they turn the
chair around, a million from 'Celebrity Skin'...
EXT.
P.O.V. - THROUGH CAMERA LENS
More
powerful lens in place, Frankie can see into the room more clearly as the woman
gives the figure in the wheelchair a long, lingering kiss. Frankie's voice
hisses as he urges them on.
FRANKIE
(o.s.)
Come
on, baby... let's see you... show your face... show everything, for that
matter...
The
woman pulls back from the kiss. As she looks up, straight into the camera, we
see that it is Frankie's wife Bobbi. A nasty smile on her face, she flips him
off before returning to the figure in the wheelchair.
EXT.
HOTEL ROOM - BALCONY
Shocked,
Frankie tosses the camera aside. He throws open the sliding glass door, rushing
out onto the balcony.
FRANKIE
(shouting)
Bobbi!
What are you doing? Turn the chair around...!
Frankie
jumps as suddenly flashbulbs begin erupting from every window in the hotel, the
cameras of other photographers whirring away. He calls out desperately.
FRANKIE
Stop!
No photographs! That's my wife in there! Isn't anything private to you people?
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Bobbi
straddles the wheelchair, sitting on Nelson's lap. Back to the window, he
doesn't notice the flashbulbs popping in the building across the street.
NELSON
What
do you say we go into the bedroom?
Bobbi
suddenly stands, moving to the window and drawing the curtains. Nelson watches,
confused, as she picks up her clothes, dressing hurriedly.
NELSON
Hey,
wait a minute. What's going on? I thought you wanted to fool around...
BOBBI
We
did.
NELSON
Uh...
did I miss something?
Bobbi
hops to the door, pulling on her shoes.
BOBBI
Thank
Mr. Hardcastle for me. Tell him I'm sorry I couldn't stay. He was a real
gentleman.
She
exits, Nelson staring dumbly after her. Grabbing the wheelchair's remote
control he wheels himself to the closet, opening the door to reveal Hardcastle
wedged inside.
NELSON
What
do you have that I don't?
Nelson
sighs, frustrated, as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE - DAY
A
dozen newspapers sit on Harrison's desk, all bearing murky photos of a nude
Bobbi Mason embracing a man in a wheelchair. Voice barely under control,
Harrison reads the headlines aloud.
HARRISON
Listen
to this - 'Hardcastle To Retire, But Not Slow Down'. 'Hardcastle Substitutes
Business For Pleasure'.
(holds
up New York 'Post')
And
this one's my favorite - 'Big Boss Boogies, Boffs Babe'. He's more popular now
than he ever was! How the hell did this happen?
Frankie
is slumped sullenly in a chair, mumbling bitterly.
FRANKIE
I'm
gonna get that son of a bitch. I'm gonna expose him and drive him out of
business...
HARRISON
What
do you think I've been paying you a thousand dollars a day for?
FRANKIE
Yeah,
but now I'm really going to start trying.
(slams
fist on arm of chair)
How
could she do this? I'll be a laughing stock.
HARRISON
Yes,
well we've all got reasons to be upset.
Frankie
stands, grabbing a newspaper off the desk and waving it in the air disgustedly.
FRANKIE
My
own wife... with the guy I'm watching... and for no money! Who could possibly
be more upset about this than me?
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Nelson
sits at his desk, a horrified look on his face as he watches a portable TV. On
screen two NEWSCASTERS laugh, while the photo of Bobbi and 'Hardcastle' is
displayed behind them.
NEWSCASTER
(on TV)
Boy,
when he said he was going to go public, he wasn't kidding.
Hearing
the 'ding' of an elevator, Nelson looks up to see Kyle step into the lobby. He
quickly switches off the TV, trying to look busy as Kyle enters, whistling
happily.
NELSON
You're
in a good mood.
Kyle
nods, tossing Nelson a set of car keys.
KYLE
Oh
yeah. Thanks for letting me use your car last night.
NELSON
What
are friends for? As long as I was using the limo I figured there was no one I'd
rather have borrow my car than the single best friend I've ever had.
Kyle
takes a seat at his desk, giving Nelson an odd look.
KYLE
Uh-huh.
Everything go okay last night?
NELSON
(nonchalantly)
Of
course. Hell, easy. But what about you? How was the big date?
A
satisfied grin on his face, Kyle leans back in his chair, hands behind his
head.
KYLE
It
was great. Like every adolescent fantasy I ever had of the perfect date.
Nelson
stands, moving eagerly to Kyle's desk.
NELSON
You
had sex?
KYLE
Okay,
not every adolescent fantasy. But I'll tell you, it was closer than I
ever thought I'd get. A beautiful woman, a starry sky, a delicious meal, and
someone else's credit card.
One of
the elevators in the lobby 'dings', a DELIVERY BOY stepping into the office. He
dumps an armful of mail onto Kyle's desk - a copy of the L.A. Times resting on
top. Nelson notices the photograph on the front page, speaking abruptly.
NELSON
Gee,
sounds nice. I've got to do something...
He
scurries into Hardcastle's office. Kyle watches him, confused, as he grabs the
newspaper.
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE
Curtains
conspicuously drawn, Nelson brushes the stuffed boar, wincing as Kyle's voice
booms through the closed door.
KYLE
(o.s.)
What!?
The
office door bursts open, Kyle storming into the room. Paper in hand, he looks
to Nelson in amazement.
KYLE
What
the hell did you do last night? You tell me you're going out to get some eyes
and the next morning you're all over the front page! I thought you wanted to
cut down on our surprises.
NELSON
It's
not that bad. You're the only one who knows it's me, everyone else thinks it's
an eccentric old man having one last fling.
Kyle
tosses the paper onto the desk in front of Hardcastle.
KYLE
But
it's not. It's you. The last thing we want is to attract any more attention and
you're out barhopping with a corpse!
Nelson
steps to a deer head mounted on the wall, brushing it gently.
NELSON
What
happened last night happened by accident. I didn't plan to have a flat tire in
front of a nightclub, but I did. I didn't plan to be picked up by a beautiful
woman, but I was. There are times in your life when you just don't question
fate.
KYLE
I
don't know, Nelson. Stuffing him is one thing, but using him to pick up girls
is kind of gross.
NELSON
Wait
a second - you used him to pick up girls as much as I did.
KYLE
How
do you figure that?
Nelson
moves to where Hardcastle sits, brushing the old man's hair.
NELSON
Whose
credit card did you use last night? Whose name did you use when you called the
restaurant?
KYLE
That's
different.
NELSON
How
is it different?
KYLE
(shouts)
I
didn't have sex!
NELSON
(shouts)
Neither
did I!
Kyle
comes up short, looking at Nelson quizzically.
KYLE
You
didn't?
NELSON
(points
to photo)
She
left. Took off. Right after that. I think she was more attracted to Hardcastle
than to me, how's that for a kick in the old ego?
Nelson
begins to laugh, Kyle's stern expression giving way to an understanding smile.
NELSON
(cont.)
I'll
tell you, Kyle - the way I see it, some men are born great, some achieve
greatness, and some have greatness thrust upon them. And then there's guys like
us. I don't think anyone could blame us for getting a little carried away.
KYLE
Okay,
so we both used him a little bit. The point is we can't put ourselves in this
situation again. Everything's got to be business as usual. Agreed?
NELSON
(nods
earnestly)
Absolutely.
Business as usual.
CUT TO:
EXT.
DARCY'S APARTMENT - MORNING
A man
in a dark suit rings the doorbell. After a moment Darcy opens the door in her
bathrobe, hair unbrushed and make-up half applied. The man smiles obediently.
CHAUFFEUR
Miss
Vanderwood?
DARCY
Yes...
CHAUFFEUR
Your
limousine, madam. I'm here to drive you to work. Compliments of Mr.
Hardcastle's office.
He
gestures to the street, where one of Hardcastle's limousines is parked. Darcy
stares, awestruck, as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Two
parking Valets strain to position a heavy cement marker at the head of a
parking space, the name 'NELSON FURBITCH' printed in block letters. Nelson
watches, calling out angrily.
NELSON
Wait
a minute - the name's not right. It's Furbisch. F-U-R-B-I-S-C-H. Take it back
and do it again.
VALET #1
(grumbling)
Yes,
sir...
The
Valets struggle to lift the marker, muttering under their breath as Nelson
smiles.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - DAY
Kyle
sits at Hardcastle's desk, working on a stack of papers. He comes across a
thick document, the words 'HARRISON AIRCRAFT - SPACE LASER SYSTEM - PROPOSED
BUDGET' on the title page. Kyle immediately slaps a rubber stamp down on the cover sheet, the word
'CANCEL' printed in bright red letters. Kyle forges Hardcastle's signature
under the stamp, a triumphant grin on his face.
At the
window behind him we see Frankie Mason, disguised as a window washer. He peers
into the office, snapping photos with a camera hidden in a sponge.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S HOME - NIGHT
Harrison
sits in an overstuffed chair, watching the evening news on TV. Onscreen we see
Kyle standing on a stage, posing with another man as he presents a giant check
from Hardcastle International.
ANCHORWOMAN
(on TV)
...
In our 'People File' - famed businessman J. Austin Hardcastle today donated
$100,000 to help renovate three downtown missions which serve as safe haven for
many in the city's homeless community.
Harrison
talks back to the TV, laughing.
HARRISON
Giving
money away. That'll kill your credibility on the stock market for sure, you old
fart.
An old
photo of Hardcastle is flashed onscreen behind the Anchorwoman.
ANCHORWOMAN
(on TV)
As
a footnote to this story - consumer and human interest groups have lauded
Hardcastle International for recent charitable efforts, causing the expected
initial interest price of stock to skyrocket before even being offered to the
public. Wall Street insiders are drooling more than usual as the--
Harrison
rises with a scream, kicking in the television screen.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - DAY
Nelson
sits at Hardcastle's desk, speaking on the phone as two workmen apply mirrored
sheets of mylar to the windows.
NELSON
(into
phone)
Okay,
I'll trade you the department store chain for Wilcox Limited, plus three
million in cash... What?... Okay, the department store chain, three million and
the Vietnamese fast food outlets, and you throw in season tickets to the
Raiders...
One of
the workmen calls to Nelson.
WORKMAN
All
finished.
Nelson
turns, cupping his hand over the receiver.
NELSON
You're
sure no one'll be able to see in?
WORKMAN
Positive.
Why - you got a dead body up here or something?
The
workmen laugh, Nelson joining in weakly.
CUT TO:
INT.
WALLACE WILCOX'S OFFICE - DAY
A
SECRETARY enters the office, stepping to the desk of Wallace Wilcox - one of
Kyle and Nelson's smug fraternity brothers. She hands Wallace an envelope.
SECRETARY
This
just arrived. Special delivery. It looks important.
Wallace
takes the envelope, laughing when he reads the return address.
WALLACE
Important?
It's from Nelson Furbisch, an old frat brother. Real loser. He's probably
asking for a job or a loan or some such nonsense.
Opening
the envelope, Wallace reads the letter. His smile fades, replaced by a look of
shock.
SECRETARY
What's
the matter?
WALLACE
This
company has been sold to Hardcastle International. And Nelson Furbisch is in
charge of the takeover...
Wallace
falls forward, forehead hitting his desk with a thud as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S DINING ROOM - DAY
Kyle
dusts the room with a rag and a can of Lysol, Hardcastle sitting quietly
nearby. As he wipes down the dining room table Kyle finds himself next to the
old man. Frowning, he looks to Hardcastle - giving him a quick squirt of Lysol
before continuing on.
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Nelson
happily watches while Wallace Wilcox washes Hardcastle's limousines.
NELSON
You
know, Wallace - I wish I'd taken a car washing class in high school so I could
get where you are today.
Nelson
smiles as Wallace gives him the dirtiest of looks.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE - DAY
Mr.
Howard stands before Harrison's desk, manila folder in hand. Harrison speaks
impatiently as the sweat stains spread on Mr. Howard's suit.
HARRISON
What
is it, Howard? It had better be important.
MR.
HOWARD
I
think it's important, sir. That is if you think it's important then it's
important, whereas if you don't think it's important...
HARRISON
(shouts)
What
is it?
Mr.
Howard opens the manila folder, removing a canceled check and handing it to
Harrison.
MR.
HOWARD
I
found this check when I was going through the records. It's made out to Edwin
Norman, who's Mr. Hardcastle's personal, private taxidermist and has stuffed
all the hunting trophies that hang on his walls. That is that I've heard
hang on his walls. You see...
HARRISON
(reads
check)
One
hundred thousand dollars? What did he want stuffed, a dinosaur?
MR.
HOWARD
(laughs
nervously)
Good
one, sir. Actually, that's what I asked Mr. Furnish when I called him about it
- though I wasn't as quick in the humor department as you, I regret to admit...
Harrison
stands, glaring at Mr. Howard.
HARRISON
What
did he say?
MR.
HOWARD
(flinching
back)
He
said it was for 'Uncle Growly'.
HARRISON
(frowns,
puzzled)
'Uncle
Growly'? Who's 'Uncle Growly'?
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S HOME - DEN - NIGHT
CLOSE
on a small TV screen, where we see news footage of various toy stores crowded
with parents and children buying 'Mean Uncle Growly' dolls - copies of the
teddy bear to which Edwin added claws, fangs and glass eyes. A NEWSCASTER
speaks into the camera.
NEWSCASTER
(on TV)
...
'Mean Uncle Growly' went on sale in toy stores across the nation today. He is
the latest teddy bear from the famous Mr. Freddy line, but with a difference.
'Uncle Growly' looks a little more vicious than your average teddy bear, and
when you pull the string, he sounds different, too.
A
child pulls the string on an 'Uncle Growly' doll for the camera.
UNCLE
GROWLY DOLL (on TV)
Grrrrr!
I'm 'Mean Uncle Growly'. I crave human flesh!
PULL
BACK to see Harrison sitting in his den, sore foot soaking in a bowl of warm
water. The Newscaster continues onscreen.
NEWSCASTER
(on TV)
Whereas
children love 'Uncle Growly', consumer groups are not so enthusiastic. But
sales are brisk, adding to the reputation of parent company Hardcastle
International before their highly publicized sale of stock next week. Save your
pennies, kids. It'll be expensive...
Harrison
staggers to his feet, kicking in the TV screen with his good foot.
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - NIGHT
Nelson
steps to his new parking space, only to find that a dumpster has been wheeled
next to it, overflowing onto his car. He turns to see the Valets standing
nearby.
VALET #1
Gee,
we're sorry, Mr. Fergis - I guess we missed the can...
The
Valets laugh, Nelson staring at them coldly.
CUT TO:
EXT.
HOLLYWOOD BOWL - NIGHT
Kyle
and Darcy sit in a roped off area near the stage, a sign reading 'RESERVED FOR
J. AUSTIN HARDCASTLE'. They enjoy a picnic dinner, sipping wine and listening
to the symphony. We PULL BACK to see Frankie Mason sitting nearby, snapping
photos with a camera concealed in a watermelon slice. He absently spits seeds
on the people in front of him as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - NIGHT
After
hours. Kyle sits at Hardcastle's desk, still wearing his suit from the
Hollywood Bowl, swamped by paperwork. He looks exhausted, dark circles
beginning to form under his eyes.
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - ENTRANCE - DAY
The
garage entrance where the Valets once stood is now manned by a toll booth with
a wooden arm. Nelson pulls up in his VW., taking a ticket as he drives through.
CUT TO:
INT.
HIGHRISE - LOBBY - DAY
Nelson
struts up to the executive elevator. The 'Executives Only' sign has been
replaced by a sign reading 'RESERVED FOR MR. MERIDETH AND MR. FURBISCH'. Nelson
steps inside, a satisfied grin on his face as the doors close.
CUT TO:
INT.
BOARD ROOM - DAY
Kyle
stands at the head of a long table, making a presentation to the Board of
Directors. Using a pointer, he illustrates his points with a graph labeled 'NET
PROFITS' - the line rising sharply.
CUT TO:
INT.
DOCTOR'S OFFICE - DAY
A
doctor stands in front of Kyle, pointing to a graph labeled 'BLOOD PRESSURE' -
the line rising sharply.
CUT TO:
INT.
HARDCASTLE'S OFFICE - DAY
The
company photographer stands behind a tripod, snapping photos of Hardcastle at
his desk, an 'Uncle Growly' doll propped on his lap. Nelson stands to one side,
watching as the Photographer shakes his head.
PHOTOGRAPHER
(to
Hardcastle)
Please,
sir - can't you smile a little more?
Nelson
leans next to Hardcastle, as if listening closely. He looks to the
Photographer.
NELSON
He
says he wants to look dignified, yet still vibrant and alive. A lot of
magazines are going to want these pictures. You can do that, can't you?
The
Photographer shrugs his shoulders, stepping back behind the camera.
CUT TO:
MONTAGE
- MAGAZINE COVERS
We see
a montage of newspapers and magazine covers featuring Hardcastle's picture: A
Wall Street Journal profile; the cover of 'Fortune' magazine ('HARDCASTLE GOES
OUT A WINNER'); 'Time' ('BUSINESSMAN J. AUSTIN HARDCASTLE - PROVING IT'S NEVER
TOO LATE'); 'Playgirl' ('THE LIVELIEST BILLIONAIRE'); and the 'National
Enquirer' ('J. AUSTIN HARDCASTLE WEDS DARYL HANNAH IN SECRET CEREMONY').
CUT TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S HOME - DEN - NIGHT
Both
feet soaking, Harrison watches the news on a portable black and white TV.
Hardcastle's picture is projected behind the ANCHORMAN.
ANCHORMAN
(on TV)
The
president today announced the names of three citizens selected to receive this
years Medal of Freedom at a ceremony in Washington next week. Heading the list
was billionaire, humanitarian and teddy bear tycoon J. Austin Hardcastle, as
well as Archbishop Michael Gary and TV personality Urkel. In a statement read
by one of his aides, Mr. Hardcastle expressed his regrets at being unable to
attend.
Nelson
appears onscreen, reading from a sheet of paper.
NELSON
(on TV)
...And
while Mr. Hardcastle is honored by this selection, he will unfortunately be
unable to attend the award ceremony due to poor health. He's been working
twelve hour days to create a new teddy bear to follow the success of 'Mean
Uncle Growly', tentatively named 'Stupid Nephew Palmer'.
Able
to take no more, Harrison lunges for the TV, falling feebly to the floor. He
looks up to see Frankie Mason's doctored photo of Sharon Stone and the Pope
flashed onscreen.
ANCHORMAN
(on TV)
Here's
Linda Donnely to fill us in on those rumors of romance between Sharon Stone and
the Pope...
Harrison
drops his head to the floor with a whimper.
CUT TO:
EXT.
DESERT TEST SITE - DAY
An
elaborate test site has been constructed in the middle of the desert. A
bunker-like building faces a large open space, where a half dozen cars are
towed in a line behind a tractor. As men in white coats scurry about, making
last minute adjustments, a limousine pulls into the parking lot, Harrison and
Darcy climbing out. Harrison walks gingerly, both feet swathed in heavy
bandages and a cane in hand. A SCIENTIST hurries forward, greeting Harrison
nervously.
SCIENTIST
#1
Good
afternoon, Mr. Harrison.
HARRISON
Is
everything ready? I'd like to blow up as few innocent bystanders as possible
this time.
The
Scientist leads Harrison and Darcy to a set of bleachers overlooking the test
site.
SCIENTIST
#1
Uh,
some of the guys wanted me to ask you, sir - there' s been a rumor that the
satellite project has been canceled by Mr. Hardcastle.
HARRISON
(snaps)
I
am in charge of this project, not Mr. Hardcastle. Your orders come from me and
me alone. Is that understood?
SCIENTIST
#1
Yes,
sir. Uh... the satellite has been completely reprogrammed and the laser system
is operating flawlessly.
(gestures
to test site)
As
you can see, we've lined up a number of cars to be pulled by the tractor. We've
instructed the computer to locate the car with the 'X' painted on the roof and
fire the laser to that exact coordinate.
Harrison
smiles, satisfied.
HARRISON
When
will it fire?
SCIENTIST
#1
In
two minutes, sir. If you'll excuse me...
The
Scientist hurries off, glancing at the sky uneasily as he puts on a hardhat.
Harrison turns to Darcy impatiently.
HARRISON
Well,
Miss Vanderwood, how are things going between you and Mr. Merideth? You've been
seeing him for nearly two weeks now - I'd have thought you'd have something to
report by this time.
Darcy
seems uncomfortable, shaking her head slowly.
DARCY
There
just isn't anything scandalous going on. As far as I can tell, Mr. Hardcastle
seems to spend all his time giving money to charities or working on business
reforms.
HARRISON
I
don't understand - donations, new employee benefits, increased salaries. The
son-of-a-bitch doesn't know how to run a business anymore.
DARCY
Actually,
I wish he was like this when I first started...
HARRISON
That's
just it - he's never been like this. It's ludicrous. There's no place
for compassion in business. It's financial suicide.
A
group of technicians make last minute adjustments to the cars. Nervously
looking to the sky, they don't notice as a scientist steps up behind them,
snapping a photograph of the scene - the technicians diving to the ground as
the camera's flash bar goes off.
DARCY
But
it's had a positive effect on the public. Kyle says that profits are up 13%.
HARRISON
That's
another problem - suddenly everyone wants to buy into the company when it goes
public. It's going to be harder to come up with a clear majority of stock.
DARCY
(nods)
Kyle
says that we should sell over twelve million 'Mean Uncle Growly's' by the end
of the year. It's the biggest toy on the market since the 'Teenage Mutant Ninja
Turtles'.
Harrison
frowns, anger mounting as he speaks.
HARRISON
Mr.
Merideth seems to have a lot of data at his fingertips for a secretary. And he
still claims he doesn't know why my uncle has suddenly decided to change his
policies? Are you sure he's telling you everything?
Darcy
grins fondly.
DARCY
Oh,
yes. We've had quite a few intimate conversations.
A
voice booms out over the P.A. system.
P.A.
ANNOUNCER (v.o.)
Laser
firing in thirty seconds...
The
technicians bolt and run from the test site, leaping into foxholes as Harrison
looks to Darcy suspiciously.
HARRISON
You're
not becoming too attached to him, are you? It could jeopardize this whole
operation. And it frightens me to think of either of those idiots
reproducing...
Darcy
wipes the smile from her face, sitting up seriously.
DARCY
No,
sir. Absolutely not.
HARRISON
Good.
When we get back to the office I want you to call a press conference. I think
it's time I stirred things up a little.
P.A.
ANNOUNCER (v.o.)
...
five... four... three... two... one... FIRE!
The
only humans left out in the open, Harrison and Darcy watch the cars as suddenly
a beam of light splits the sky behind them - striking Harrison's limousine,
which disappears in an enormous fireball. Harrison grimaces as he turns,
watching the debris land in the parking lot.
P.A.
ANNOUNCER (v.o.)
Computers
show a successful discharge at 3:05 p.m. and thirty seconds. Target destroyed.
DISSOLVE
TO:
EXT.
SEASHORE - DAY
Sunset.
Hardcastle and Frisky are positioned on a jetty, gazing out at the ocean while
Nelson bustles about with a camera, taking photographs from various angles.
Kyle stands to one side, nervously keeping watch.
KYLE
You
still haven't explained why we're doing this. It's not because he's too pale.
NELSON
It's
for 'Life' magazine. They love this kind of stuff. You don't think it looks too
posed...
KYLE
Oh,
never. They're only slightly less animated than the rocks.
NELSON
You're
right. Maybe Frisky's tail should be wagging...
Kyle
shakes his head, stepping between Nelson and Hardcastle. He bends down, putting
his face in front of the camera lens.
KYLE
Nelson,
we only have one day to go - don't you think we should just lay low? I mean,
it's only a matter of time before someone notices that he hasn't changed
expression, moved, or more importantly, breathed, for weeks.
Nelson
reaches into a bag, pulling out a Broc-a-brella hat.
KYLE
(cont.)
There'll
be an investigation, they'll find out he's dead, there'll be an autopsy, and
when they open him up all they'll find is a bunch of wadded up newspapers.
NELSON
(placing
hat on Hardcastle's head)
Newspapers?
I thought Edwin promised to do a quality job. Doesn't he have any respect for
the dead? Besides, nobody's going to start an investigation. We're home free.
Kyle
stares at Hardcastle, Broc-a-brella hat on his head, and groans as we...
CUT TO:
INT.
PRESS ROOM - DAY
Harrison
is onstage, standing at the podium as he addresses the media.
HARRISON
I
haven't seen my uncle in weeks. He could be dead for all I know. I do know that
if he were really in charge he'd never have made the decision to go public.
He'd want this company to stay in the control of the family, of which I am his
only surviving heir. I believe others have made this decision, and that there
should be an investigation.
Flashbulbs
pop as reporters shout questions.
HERALD
REPORTER
Mr.
Harrison - Los Angeles Herald. Do you have any proof to back these allegations?
JOURNAL
REPORTER
Wall
Street Journal. Will you try to prevent the sale of stock this week?
U.S.A.
REPORTER
U.S.A.
Today - could you condense your speech down to ten words or less?
CUT TO:
EXT.
CITY STREET - NIGHT
Hardcastle's
limousine glides down the street, wheelchair strapped to the roof.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Nelson
drives, Kyle riding shotgun while Hardcastle sits in back.
KYLE
I'm
serious, Nelson. This has got to stop. Things are crazy enough without wheeling
him around in public.
NELSON
Yeah.
Actually, I've been thinking that this thing is starting to go too far.
KYLE
(laughs)
Starting?
Don't tell me the guy who wanted to get a dead body it's own light beer
commercial is beginning to feel guilty.
NELSON
No.
KYLE
Then
why the sudden change of heart?
Frowning,
Nelson gestures to Hardcastle in the back seat.
NELSON
Because
I do all the work and he gets all the credit. I've never worked so hard in my
life. He gets all the TV coverage and magazine covers and I get the ulcers. Now
I know how Edgar Bergen must've felt.
EXT.
HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL
The
limo turns a corner, where a throng of news vans and TV crews crowd around the
building entrance. They swarm toward the limo as it screeches to a halt.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
and Nelson stare in shock as the news crews charge the car, flood lights from
their cameras glaring through the windshield.
NELSON
(shielding
eyes)
What's
all this?
KYLE
I
don't know, but something tells me we'd better get out of here. I don't think
our boss has anything to say...
EXT.
HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL
The
limo quickly backs up the way it came, careening around the corner. The news
crews turn, making a mad dash for their cars.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Nelson
turns the car around, gunning the engine.
NELSON
That
didn't look too suspicious... Now what?
KYLE
We
just have to hide him one mare day. We'll get the final papers from the lawyers
in the morning and all the legal stuff will be finished. That way we save the
company and fulfill Hardcastle's wishes.
NELSON
Right.
Then what?
Kyle
looks at him blankly.
KYLE
Pardon
me?
NELSON
Then
what do we do?
They
ride in silence for a moment.
KYLE
I
don't know. What do you think we should do?
NELSON
(shrugs)
I
don't know. I figured you'd know.
KYLE
(voice
rising)
Me?
Why should I know? This was your idea, remember? You've had two weeks to think
about this. It's not like you've been doing anything else.
NELSON
(defensive)
Not
been doing anything? I've been busting my butt the last two weeks!
KYLE
(shouts)
Doing
what? Arranging the 'Who'll-Die-From-A-Horrible-Brain-Aneurysm' pool?
EXT.
CITY STREET
A
derelict wanders drunkenly into the street, clutching a bottle in a brown paper
bag to his chest. He stumbles across the road, humming a jingle from a car
commercial.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
and Nelson continue to argue, neither paying attention to the road as they
exchange insults.
NELSON
At
least I haven't spent all my time trying to get Harrison's secretary into bed!
KYLE
What
do you mean, 'trying'?
NELSON
Oh,
great! I suppose that means I lost the
'Who'll-Get-Into-Darcy-Vanderwood's-Pants-First' pool!
KYLE
Oh
yeah? Who won?
NELSON
NOBODY!
Kyle
turns, glancing out the windshield to see the derelict stumble into their path.
He cries out:
KYLE
Nelson
- look out!
Nelson
turns, seeing the derelict too late. He slams on the brakes.
EXT.
CITY STREET
The
limo slams into the derelict, knocking him into the gutter. Onlookers cry out,
gathering around the man as Nelson hurries out of the car.
NELSON
He
jumped right out in front of me. There was nothing I could do...
Nelson
pushes through the crowd, kneeling to help the derelict. He gently rolls him
over onto his back to reveal...
CLOSE
- TEX ALBERTSON
Slowly
opening his eyes, he focuses on Nelson's face.
TEX
You...
EXT.
CITY STREET
Nelson
jumps back in shock as Tex slowly rises to his feet, pointing at him
accusingly.
TEX
This
bastard ran me out of business! He's the one who put me here. It's all his
fault!
NELSON
(to
crowd)
The
guy's obviously delirious...
TEX
He
kicked me into the gutter! It's only fitting he should hit me with his car!
Nelson
tries to back through the crowd, who are beginning to mutter threateningly.
NELSON
If
you'll let me through... I've got some band-aids in the glove compartment...
TEX
It's
true! He works for that bastard J. Austin Hardcastle. I'll bet that's him in
the car... !
One of
the bystanders peers into the limo. He calls out to the others as Kyle
hurriedly rolls up his window.
BYSTANDER
#1
Hey!
It is J. Austin Hardcastle!
BYSTANDER
#2
Somebody
call the police!
INT.
NEWS VAN
A
camera crew from a local TV station sits at an intersection. The DRIVER spots
the commotion around the limo.
DRIVER
Isn't
that the limo we're looking for?
REPORTER
Only
one way to find out.
EXT. CITY STREET
The
crowd turning ugly, Nelson tries to make his way to the limo. Panicked, he
pulls out his wallet, handing Tex some money.
NELSON
Look,
here's twenty bucks. Let's call it even...
TEX
(pocketing
money)
Somebody
call the paramedics - I'm gonna sue this son-of-a-bitch for everything he's
got!
Nelson
looks up just as the news van pulls to the curb, camera crew hopping out the
back.
NELSON
Shit!
That's it...
Nelson
makes a run for the limo, diving inside. The camera crew rush forward as Tex
cries out desperately.
TEX
Stop
them! I want justice!
The
limo pulls away, bystanders jostling for position in front of the camera crew.
BYSTANDER
#2
They're
getting away! That's J. Austin Hardcastle's limousine and it just did a
hit-and-run!
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Nelson
punches the accelerator, speeding crazily as Kyle watches the road behind them.
KYLE
Okay,
now what do we do? We can't take him back to the office, and we can't drive
around in this thing all night.
NELSON
Don't
worry. I'll get us out of this. You just make sure we're not followed.
KYLE
(puzzled)
How?
CUT TO:
EXT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - NIGHT
Kyle
closes the garage door, the limousine parked inside. He steps onto the porch,
unlocking the front door as Nelson wrestles Hardcastle's wheelchair up the
steps.
NELSON
How
come I always have to push the wheelchair?
KYLE
Karma?
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Stepping
inside, Kyle turns on the light to find Darcy sitting on the couch, stroking a
large calico cat. Kyle's jaw drops in surprise as she stands, obviously upset.
DARCY
Hello,
Kyle.
Kyle
blocks the doorway, motioning frantically to Nelson behind his back.
KYLE
(loudly)
Darcy!
Great to see you! I gave you a key to my house!
Nelson
ducks, hurriedly bumping Hardcastle back down the steps. Kyle steps inside,
closing the door behind him.
EXT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - FRONT YARD
Nelson
begins to wheel Hardcastle back down the walkway, freezing when he spots a news
van patrolling the street. Performing a quick about-face he pushes the old man
around the side of the house.
CUT TO:
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Kyle
embraces Darcy, giving her a kiss on the cheek. She gives him a peculiar look.
DARCY
Is
something the matter? Did I come at a bad time?
KYLE
No,
of course not. You just surprised me, that's all. I didn't see your car out
front...
DARCY
I
walked over. I had some thinking to do. We have to talk...
CUT TO:
EXT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - BACK YARD
Nelson
strains to reach a high window, balanced precariously on top of Hardcastle's
wheelchair. He claws at the windowsill, lifting himself up to see inside as it
begins to rain.
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Kyle
glances to the window, where Nelson clings desperately, mouthing obscenities in
the pouring rain. He takes Darcy by the hand, steering her around so her back
is to the window.
KYLE
Couldn't
we talk later? It's been kind of a long day, and I'm really tired...
DARCY
No,
Kyle. This is really important...
Suddenly
Nelson slips from the windowsill, landing with a crash. Darcy turns to the
window, alarmed.
DARCY
What
was that?
KYLE
Uh,
probably just the neighbor's dog in the trash again...
CUT TO:
EXT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - BACK YARD
A
large wet mud stain on the seat of his pants, Nelson wheels Hardcastle
underneath another window. Forcing it open, he tries to shove the body through,
having some difficulty.
CUT TO:
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Kyle
and Darcy sit on the couch. Darcy apparently having some trouble saying what
she cane here to say.
DARCY
I
don't know how to say this...
Kyle
stares at the window, preoccupied.
KYLE
It's
best just to say it quickly.
DARCY
(sighs)
I've
lied to you, Kyle. For as long as we've been seeing each other.
Kyle
reaches over, patting her head impatiently.
KYLE
So?
Everybody lies occasionally. What do you say we forgive each other and drop the
whole thing.
DARCY
You
don't even know what I've done...
There
is a SPLASH from another room, Kyle speaking loudly to cover the noise.
KYLE
And
I don't want to know. Let's not spoil the relationship by revealing ugly little
secrets to each other.
DARCY
(flatly)
Harrison
ordered me to go out with you and find out what I could about Mr. Hardcastle.
Kyle
stands, eyes flashing indignantly.
KYLE
You
whore!
CUT TO:
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - BATHROOM
Nelson
stands in the bathroom trying to pull Hardcastle through the window from the
inside. He removes his foot from the toilet, shaking the water off.
CUT TO:
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - LIVING ROOM
Darcy
stands, looking to Kyle defensively.
DARCY
I
didn't tell him anything! Jesus, do you think I'd be telling you this if I had?
I've been driving myself crazy not knowing what to do - don't tell Harrison
anything and lose my job, or give him information and lose you.
Kyle
looks to her uncertainly.
KYLE
And
you decided to tell me, even if it cost you your job?
DARCY
Yes.
Kyle
steps forward, giving her a hug.
KYLE
I'm
sorry. I should've trusted you.
Looking
over Darcy's shoulder Kyle sees Nelson sneak down the hallway, carrying
Hardcastle over his shoulder. His shoe makes a damp squishing sound as he
walks.
KYLE
(cont.)
Let's
keep a pact to always trust each other from now on.
DARCY
And
never keep any secrets.
Kyle
steps back, pretending to stifle a yawn.
KYLE
Right.
I'm glad that's settled. I should really get to bed...
DARCY
(grins)
You
want some company?
Nelson
flashes across the hallway with Hardcastle, rushing out of Kyle's bedroom.
Putting an arm around her shoulders, Kyle steers Darcy toward the front door.
KYLE
I
don't think that's such a good idea. I think I'm coming down with a cold, and
I'd hate to give it to you...
DARCY
Are
you sure? You're not mad at me are you?
KYLE
No,
no. Of course not.
DARCY
Let
me make you some hot tea, then.
There
is a crash from the kitchen.
DARCY
What
was that?
KYLE
Must
be the cat...
Before
he can stop her Darcy makes a beeline for the kitchen.
INT.
KYLE'S HOUSE - KITCHEN
Darcy
steps in, followed by a panicked Kyle, to find Nelson and Hardcastle sitting at
the kitchen table playing cards.
NELSON
...
Okay, dealer takes four...
(looking
up)
Oh,
hi Darcy.
DARCY
(surprised)
Excuse
me, I didn't realize...
(to
Kyle)
Kyle,
I'm sorry, I...
Kyle
takes Darcy aside, speaking quietly.
KYLE
It's
okay. But now you know why you can't stay. Mr. Hardcastle needed somewhere to
hide from the press. He's got some big decisions to make...
DARCY
(nods)
Of
course, I understand.
(to
Hardcastle)
Congratulations
on your nomination, sir. My name is Darcy Vanderwood - I work for your
nephew...
Hardcastle
doesn't answer. Nelson speaks softly.
NELSON
I
think he's asleep. Must've nodded off mid-hand.
Kyle
grabs Darcy's arm, trying to steer her out of the room. They don't notice as
the calico cat saunters in.
KYLE
(whispers)
I'll
see you in the morning. I figure if we leave work tomorrow by three we can take
the company jet to New York in time to see a show, maybe have a late dinner...
As
Kyle speaks the cat ambles to where Hardcastle sits. Stopping at his feet, the
cat calmly begins to sharpen it's claws on Hardcastle's leg. Hearing a loud
scraping sound, Darcy looks down. Gasping, she steps forward, kicking the cat
away.
DARCY
Shoo!
Get away from there!
The
cat runs off, tail in the air. Concerned, Darcy kneels beside Hardcastle.
DARCY
Are
you all right, sir?
She
jars Hardcastle, his dark glasses falling away. His eyes stare blankly ahead.
Darcy stands, reflexively wiping her hands on her pants.
DARCY
Oh my
God - he's dead!
(stares
at body closely)
And
he's been stuffed!
NELSON
(shocked)
Stuffed?
I can't believe it - he was fine this morning!
Darcy
turns to Kyle accusingly.
DARCY
You
stuffed your boss? How long has this been going on?
Kyle
sits at the table, cradling his head in his hands.
KYLE
A
few weeks, a year... I don't know any more...
NELSON
But
we have a good excuse.
DARCY
A
good excuse? How can you possibly justify this?
NELSON
(thinks)
Youthful
exuberance?
As
Kyle, Nelson and Darcy talk we notice something move in the window behind them.
A flower pot on the sill outside rises up to reveal Frankie Mason, who wears
the pot strapped to his head. He does a double-take when he sees Hardcastle
sitting at the table.
KYLE
We
just found him like that one night. Before he died we promised him we'd never
let Harrison get control of the company. It was his last wish.
DARCY
Was
it his last wish to be stuffed like an animal?
Kyle
and Nelson exchange looks, deciding not to answer that question.
KYLE
It
was only supposed to be until the company could go public.
DARCY
You
couldn't let the board of directors handle it? They might not have given
Harrison control, you know.
KYLE
Right.
Who're they going to give it to - Mr. Freddy?
In the
window, Frankie raises a camera to his eyes - then lowers it, frowning. He
opens it to reveal that there's no film inside. Frankie desperately searches
his pockets for film as the argument continues.
DARCY
I
don't care what your excuses are - this is morally, legally and aesthetically
wrong!
KYLE
Darcy,
try to understand...
DARCY
I
understand, Kyle. You've stuffed your boss, run the company illegally and lied
to me all along. I understand perfectly.
With
that, Darcy rushes out of the kitchen. Kyle jumps up, calling after her weakly.
KYLE
Darcy!
Wait!
The
front door slams shut, Kyle looking to Nelson helplessly. In the window we see
Frankie frantically rummaging through his camera bag.
NELSON
Why
didn't you try to stop her?
KYLE
And
tell her what? How could I make her accept this?
NELSON
Tell
her you love her... tell her we had a good reason... tell her we'll give her a
hundred thousand dollars to keep it quiet...
Kyle
sits, slouching over the table tiredly.
KYLE
It's
no use. It's over. The woman I love is going to call the police and send us to
jail for the rest of our lives.
NELSON
Well...
you're probably better off without a girl like that, anyway.
Kyle
and Nelson both slump forward, heads in hands as in the window Frankie does the
same.
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
HARRISON'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Darcy
steps into the office, tossing her purse onto her desk. She looks haggard, as
though she hasn't slept all night. Hearing a muffled voice coming from
Harrison's office, Darcy moves to the door cautiously.
INT.
HARRISON'S OFFICE
Slowly
opening the door, Darcy is surprised to see Harrison sitting at his desk,
yelling at someone over the phone. He looks like he's been up all night, too.
HARRISON
(into
phone)
Don't
panic... Listen, I wasn't even sure who was up there until this morning.
Washington, Lincoln, and two other guys. Nobody'll miss him...
DARCY
Mr.
Harrison? Can I talk to you, sir?
Harrison
jumps when he sees Darcy standing in the doorway.
HARRISON
Jesus!
Never sneak up on me like that.
DARCY
I'm
sorry. I didn't expect you in this early, and when I heard voices...
Harrison
nods distractedly, putting his hand over the mouthpiece of the phone.
HARRISON
You
wouldn't happen to know any good sculptors, would you? We had a small glitch
with the space laser last night.
Darcy
sits, preparing herself for the worst.
DARCY
What
happened?
HARRISON
Do
you remember Mount Rushmore?
DARCY
(horrified)
You
blew up a national monument?
HARRISON
Not
all of it. Just Teddy Roosevelt. He never belonged up there anyway.
Darcy
leans back in shock.
DARCY
I
guess that puts a crimp in your takeover plans.
HARRISON
Don't
worry. It's in situations like this that I really shine. I'll give the entire
thing a face lift, maybe even have it painted. I could end up a national hero.
(into
phone)
Are
you still there? Listen, I don't care where the problem is. You guys built the
thing, now fix it. And if you insist on blowing up national landmarks, aim it
at my uncle!
Harrison
slams down the phone as Frankie Mason bursts into the room, a crazed look in
his eyes.
FRANKIE
I
did it! We've got him!
HARRISON
Can't
you knock before coming in?
(makes
a face)
Or
at least bathe?
FRANKIE
I've
got evidence that Hardcastle is unfit to run the company.
HARRISON
In
what way?
FRANKIE
(smiles)
He's
dead.
Harrison's
jaw drops in amazement.
HARRISON
He's
dead? Uncle Austin's dead?
(grins)
Outstanding!
Where are the pictures?
Frankie
frowns, embarrassed.
FRANKIE
Uh...
I didn't get any.
HARRISON
(angry)
You
didn't get any? You finally find out what I hire you to find out and you don't
take any pictures?
FRANKIE
Well, I
kind of ran out of film.
(points
to Darcy)
But
she was there, too. She was right in the room with them. The old guy looked
pretty good, too. A little stiff, but pretty good.
Harrison
turns to Darcy.
HARRISON
Is
this true, Miss Vanderwood?
DARCY
(hedging)
Uh,
yeah. I'd say he looked pretty good...
Sitting
back, Harrison shakes his head in wonder.
HARRISON
God.
How long has this been going on? They probably had to find some way to preserve
him... so they take him to their friendly neighborhood taxidermist... that
would explain the $100,000 check... nobody can get in to see him... only seen
in still photographs... they run the company the way they want to...
(laughs)
I
should've given those clowns more credit. I wish I'd have thought of it. How
long have you known about this, Miss Vanderwood? Miss Vanderwood... ?
Harrison
looks up to find Darcy gone, the office door swinging shut. He stands,
gesturing for Frankie to follow as he heads out the door.
HARRISON
Cone
on. She'll take us right to them.
FRANKIE
(looks
at watch)
Do
you need me? My editor called - I'm supposed to get pictures of some UFO attack
in North Dakota...
CUT TO:
INT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
Kyle
and Nelson stand beside the limousine, glancing around nervously as they untie
the wheelchair from the roof rack.
KYLE
I
laid awake all night listening for sirens. All I could hear was you strangling
the cat.
NELSON
(defensively)
I
wasn't strangling the cat. I was kicking it. What are we doing here, anyway?
Don't you think if they want to find us this'll be the first place they look?
Lowering
the wheelchair to the ground, they open the back door, helping Hardcastle into
the chair.
KYLE
We've
got to pick up the papers from the lawyers so we can end this nonsense. I don't
want to live the rest of my life this way. Two weeks was bad enough.
NELSON
So
who says we have to live this way? We could be on a jet halfway to Rio by now.
Let's just pin the papers to his shirt and get out of here...
As
they strap Hardcastle into the wheelchair Kyle glances up to see Darcy rushing
toward them.
KYLE
Oh,
Christ. Here we go...
NELSON
(looks
up)
Okay,
listen - you hit her high, I'll hit her low, and by the time she wakes up we'll
be in Rio, drunk, dancing and having our pockets picked by beautiful women.
Darcy
steps up, Nelson ready to pounce when Kyle grabs his arm.
DARCY
Kyle!
I'm glad I found you. Harrison knows all about what's going on.
NELSON
And
we want to thank you for that. Sincerely.
DARCY
I
didn't tell him, he found out himself. He had this photographer following you
and... and what are you doing here, anyway?
KYLE
We have
to get some papers from the legal department, and then deliver them to the
S.E.C. so that we can finalize the company going public. That really is why we
did this.
(gestures
to Hardcastle)
It
was his last wish that Harrison not get control of the company.
Darcy
nods knowingly.
DARCY
After
this morning I can believe that...
The
sound of footsteps echo across the garage, everyone turning to see Harrison and
Frankie approaching. Harrison calls out, a smug grin on his face.
HARRISON
You
know, I can understand wanting to preserve his memory, but don't you think this
is a little extreme?
Nelson
quickly grabs the wheelchair, trying unsuccessfully to lift it back onto the
roof.
NELSON
Time
to go.
KYLE
(to
Harrison)
Fine.
We give up. Call the police and let's get this over with.
HARRISON
Not
so fast. I have a proposition. If you help me out I'll see to it you're not
charged with murder.
KYLE
Murder?
We didn't murder anyone.
Straining,
Nelson begins pushing the wheelchair up the back of the car and onto the trunk.
NELSON
Time
to go!
HARRISON
I'm
prepared to make this deal on two conditions. One, that you tell the press my
uncle approved the laser test this morning, right before his tragic heart
attack...
KYLE
What
laser test?
DARCY
The
disastrously misfired one.
KYLE
(nods)
Of
course. What else?
HARRISON
That
you drop the plans to go public and let control of the company fall to me.
Having
wrestled the wheelchair into place on the roof of the limo, Nelson pauses,
calling down to Harrison.
NELSON
That's
it? We do that and you'll let us go free?
HARRISON
(laughs)
No,
I said I wouldn't charge you with murder. There are at least fifty other laws
that you've broken. As well as every rule of taxidermy.
Nelson
starts strapping the wheelchair onto the roof rack.
NELSON
Yup,
time to go...
DARCY
That's
not fair!
HARRISON
Fair?
Why should I be fair? I own their asses.
Nelson
jumps down from the top of the car, Kyle meeting his glance.
KYLE
& NELSON
Time
to go!
They
both dive into the limo, Hardcastle wobbling slightly as Kyle starts the
engine. He calls to Darcy.
KYLE
Darcy
- get the papers. There should be instructions telling you what to do. They
have to be delivered by ten o'clock!
Harrison
and Frankie rush forward, pounding on the hood as the limo pulls away.
HARRISON
Stop,
you bastards! I know what you did and I'm going to tell!
(to
Frankie)
Do
you have a car?
FRANKIE
What?
HARRISON
A
car! Do you have a car?
FRANKIE
Oh,
yeah. C'mon.
Frankie
and Harrison race across the garage. Hopping into Frankie's beat-up Pinto, they
peel out after the limousine. Darcy starts toward the elevators, breaking into
a dead run.
CUT TO:
EXT.
PARKING GARAGE - DAY
The
limo speeds out of the garage and up onto the street - Hardcastle sitting
quietly in his wheelchair on the roof. Cars swerve to avoid the limousine as
Frankie's Pinto rockets out of the garage. Harrison sits in the passenger seat,
gesturing wildly as they race after the limousine.
CUT TO:
INT.
LEGAL OFFICES - DAY
Darcy
rushes into the legal department. She hurries to the first person she sees -
Mr. Howard.
DARCY
I
need the papers that Mr. Merideth was going to pick up. He asked me to deliver
them.
Mr.
Howard shakes his head adamantly.
MR.
HOWARD
Oh,
no. I'm sorry Miss Vanderwood, but Mr. Harrison called not fifteen minutes ago
and told me to guard these papers with my life and not to let anyone have them
no matter what happened and I assured him...
Darcy
suddenly reaches out, grabbing Mr. Howard by the lapels.
DARCY
(growling)
Now.
MR.
HOWARD
(gulps)
Okay.
CUT TO:
EXT.
CENTURY CITY - DAY
The
limo moves through Century City, doing its best to weave through traffic. The
smaller, more agile Pinto is gaining ground.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
concentrates on maneuvering through traffic while Nelson sticks his head out
the window, glancing behind them. He turns to Kyle.
NELSON
They're
right behind us. Hurry up!
KYLE
What
do you want me to do? This thing handles like an aircraft carrier.
NELSON
Then
get on the freeway. Just get moving!
EXT.
FREEWAY ONRAMP
A
C.H.P. car sits by the onramp, the officers inside watching traffic when
suddenly the limo streaks by, Hardcastle's hair blowing in the wind. The Pinto
is right on their tail. Looking to one another in disbelief the officers hit
their siren, taking off in pursuit of the cars.
CUT TO:
EXT.
FEDERAL BUILDING - DAY
Pedestrians
scramble out of the crosswalk as a Toyota speeds through a red light,
screeching to a halt in front of the Federal Building - half on and half off
the sidewalk. Darcy climbs out of the car, heading for the entrance as a MAN
calls to her.
MAN
Hey
- you can't park there!
DARCY
(waves
papers)
Diplomatic
immunity! Delivering an arms agreement with Switzerland...
She
hurries into the building as we...
CUT TO:
EXT.
FREEWAY - DAY
The
limousine weaves wildly through traffic - morning commuters staring at the old
man in a wheelchair riding on the roof. The Pinto follows, with the C.H.P.
close behind.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
drives nervously, glancing into the side-view mirrors.
KYLE
Do
you hear a siren?
NELSON
Don't
worry about it. Keep going. They can't want us...
CUT TO:
INT.
PINTO
Frankie
looks into the rear view mirror.
FRANKIE
Shit!
The cops. What do we do now?
HARRISON
Keep
going. Who do you think they're going to arrest - you for speeding, or them for
driving with a dead guy on the roof?
CUT TO:
INT.
C.H.P. CAR
One of
the officers concentrates on following the other cars as his partner calls in.
C.H.P.
OFFICER
(into
radio)
...
You heard me - a black stretch limousine with an old man in a wheelchair on the
roof. And I think it's that J. Allen Hardcastle guy, too. Isn't there a warrant
out on him for a hit-and-run... ?
CUT TO:
INT.
FEDERAL BUILDING - S.E.C. OFFICE - DAY
An
elderly man sits at his desk, slowly going through the legal papers while Darcy
watches impatiently. She glances to a clock on the wall, which reads 9:55.
DARCY
Uh,
I don't mean to rush you, but these papers have to be okayed by ten o'clock or
they'll be invalid.
The
elderly man pauses, looking up at Darcy. He just stares at her a moment before
returning to the papers, painstakingly examining every line. Darcy sighs,
fidgeting nervously.
CUT TO:
EXT.
FREEWAY - DAY
The
chase continues, with a half dozen more C.H.P. cars joining in, lights flashing
and sirens blaring.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
rambles miserably, not paying attention to the road.
KYLE
I
mean, really, what's the worst that would've happened? Harrison takes over, he
fires us, and we find new jobs. Is that so terrible?
NELSON
Isn't
it a little late in the game to be having this convers--
(horrified,
points out windshield)
Kyle!
Kyle
looks up as...
EXT.
FREEWAY
... a
school bus drifts into their lane, cutting in front of the limo. Swerving, Kyle
stomps on the brakes - the wheelchair breaking loose from the roof rack,
rolling down the windshield, across the hood and onto the freeway.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
and Nelson watch as Hardcastle careens away down the freeway. They turn to each
other, eyes wide.
KYLE
& NELSON
Shit!
Kyle
floors the accelerator, speeding after the wheelchair.
CUT TO:
INT.
PINTO
Harrison
sees the wheelchair rolling down the freeway and begins to laugh.
HARRISON
Oh,
this is too good. I can't wait to see them try to get out of this one.
CUT TO:
INT.
C.H.P. CAR
The
officer shouts into the radio.
C.H.P.
OFFICER
You
heard me - an elderly man in a wheelchair. Speed clocked at 65 miles per hour.
I'm not kidding around...
CUT TO:
INT.
STATION WAGON
A
family heads for the beach, the youngest daughter playing with a 'Mean Uncle
Growly' doll. She pulls its string, making it talk.
UNCLE
GROWLY DOLL
Grrrrr.
I am a rabid animal. I want to eat your face off.
The
FATHER snaps, annoyed.
FATHER
Shut
that thing up, willya? It's hard enough to concentrate with all the kooks on
the road...
His
voice trails off as he watches Hardcastle speed past the car in his wheelchair.
EXT.
FREEWAY
The
wheelchair continues down the freeway, narrowly missing cars, the concrete
divider, assorted debris.
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Kyle
looks to Nelson, concerned.
KYLE
We've
got to find some way to stop him!
Nelson
reaches into the glove box, pulling out the remote control to Hardcastle's
wheelchair. He points it out the window at the wheelchair. Frowning, he shakes
the remote angrily.
NELSON
Aw,
shit! I forgot - we broke the 'stop' button when we were drag racing in the
hallway the other night.
KYLE
What
do we do now? He's gonna hit something.
Nelson
thinks for a moment, giving Kyle a cocky grin.
NELSON
Piece
of cake.
Leaning
out the window, Nelson aims the remote toward the speeding wheelchair.
EXT.
FREEWAY
The
wheelchair races straight for the breakdown lane, where a motorist nervously
changes a flat tire. At the last minute the chair swerves, avoiding a
collision. Using the remote control, Nelson skillfully steers Hardcastle
through traffic, Kyle keeping the limousine close behind.
CUT TO:
INT.
PINTO
Frankie
and Harrison watch as Nelson guides the wheelchair.
FRANKIE
Hey!
How're they doing that?
HARRISON
(rummaging
through glove box)
Do
you have a gun in here?
FRANKIE
What're
you going to do? Shoot a dead man?
HARRISON
No,
a live secretary. Don't tell me you don't have a gun. And you call yourself an
L.A. driver...
CUT TO:
INT.
LIMOUSINE
Guiding
Hardcastle with the remote control, Nelson suddenly begins to laugh.
KYLE
What
the hell's so funny?
NELSON
Did
you ever have one of those moments when you realize you've become your father?
Kyle
gives Nelson an odd look as we...
CUT TO:
EXT.
DESERT TEST SITE - DAY
The
laser test site is a mess. Everything is burned to a crisp. The bleachers, the
tractor, even the bunker-like control center has obviously taken a few direct
hits from the laser. In fact, everything in the area has been destroyed -
except the car with the 'X' painted on the roof, which has been left untouched.
INT.
CONTROL CENTER
Scientists
sit before computer screens in what's left of the bunker, staring out at the
car hatefully.
SCIENTIST
#1
I
don't know about you guys, but I'm about to go out and throw a lit match into
it's gas tank.
SCIENTIST
#2
We've
punched in every conceivable coordinate. I don't know what else to do...
SCIENTIST
#1
(thinks)
Punch
in the words stenciled on the trunk.
The
Scientist nods, typing in the words 'PROPERTY OF HARDCASTLE INTERNATIONAL'.
CUT TO:
EXT.
FREEWAY - DAY
As
Hardcastle careens down the freeway we notice the words 'PROPERTY OF HARDCASTLE
INTERNATIONAL' stenciled to the back of the wheelchair.
CUT TO:
INT.
FEDERAL BUILDING - S.E.C. OFFICE - DAY
The
elderly man continues to review the legal papers. Darcy anxiously looks between
him and the clock, which now reads 10:01. She sighs, defeated, as the elderly
man closes the file. Swiveling slowly in his chair he reaches onto the shelf
behind him, where he inserts the papers into a time clock.
S.E.C.
MAN
Approved.
The
time clock stamps the papers, which the elderly man hands to Darcy. She looks
at the stamp, which reads 9:59. The man gives her a playful smile.
S.E.C.
MAN
Clock
on the wall's a mite fast.
CUT TO:
INT.
DESERT TEST SITE - CONTROL CENTER - DAY
The
scientists stare out at the test area, tinted goggles over their eyes.
SCIENTIST
#1
...three...
two... one... FIRE!
Scientist
#2 pushes a button on the computer.
CUT TO:
INT.
LIMOUSINE - DAY
Nelson
continues to guide the wheelchair, turning to Kyle.
NELSON
We
better figure out what we're going to do. It's only two hundred miles to the
border, but I don't think the battery in the wheelchair will last that long...
There
is a sudden, blinding flash of light, followed by a huge explosion. Kyle and
Nelson shield their eyes, the limousine swerving violently.
CUT TO:
INT.
DESERT TEST SITE - CONTROL CENTER - DAY
Lowering
their goggles, the scientists stare out at the target car, which remains
untouched.
SCIENTIST
#2
(confused)
I
guess it didn't fire...
CUT TO:
EXT.
FREEWAY - DAY
The
limousine comes to a screeching halt at the rim of a huge, smoldering crater -
followed by the Pinto and the police cars. Harrison jumps out of the car,
shaking his fist at the sky.
HARRISON
Not
again, you idiots! Not now!
Kyle
and Nelson climb out of the limo, staring open-mouthed at the hole in the
middle of the freeway.
NELSON
Jesus!
Did you see that?
Two
C.H.P. Officers step up behind them, slipping handcuffs onto their wrists.
C.H.P.
OFFICER
Yes,
we did.
Harrison
races forward, calling to the C.H.P. Officers.
HARRISON
Officers!
Thank God you've got them. These men killed my uncle!
Kyle
and Nelson exchange frightened glances as we...
DISSOLVE
TO:
INT.
PRISON - VISITING ROOM - DAY
Inmates
and visitors sit on opposite sides of a wire mesh screen. Kyle sits in one
cubicle, a melancholy look on his face as he talks with Darcy.
DARCY
So
how have you been?
KYLE
I
think prison life agrees with me. Notice my rosy cheeks and hearty laugh? How
have you been?
DARCY
All
right, I guess. Ever since Palmer was demoted for blowing up a national
monument things have been a little slow. You know, right up to the end he was
trying to convince everyone that you guys had stuffed his uncle. But without
any pictures or the body no one would believe him.
Kyle
lets out a bitter laugh.
KYLE
Thank
God. Five to ten for manslaughter is bad enough. They'd probably have to invent
a punishment for what we did.
Kyle
and Darcy look up as Nelson is led into the room by a GUARD. He steps to the
cubicle, giving Darcy a smile.
NELSON
Sorry
I'm late - I've been shining shoes in the laundry room.
Darcy
nods, speaking hesitantly.
DARCY
I'm
glad you're here, Nelson. I have some news that concerns both of you. They read
Hardcastle's will yesterday.
KYLE
Don't
tell me, let me guess - Harrison got everything, right?
DARCY
Not
exactly. You did. His money, control of the business, everything. You and
Nelson were to split it fifty-fifty.
NELSON
Neat!
KYLE
(wary)
What
do you mean 'were'?
DARCY
Well,
seeing as you were both convicted of causing his death, the will is being
contested by the board of directors and Mr. Harrison. Palmer's been desperate
for money ever since his demotion. He's been put in charge of some little
business we acquired a few months ago.
Beginning
to hyperventilate, Kyle turns to Nelson, speaking quietly.
KYLE
You
mean we did this for nothing? We went through all this and we didn't have to?
If we hadn't done this we not only wouldn't be in jail, we would be two of the
richest, most powerful men in the country?
Nelson
shrugs his shoulders helplessly.
NELSON
Hey,
it was a bad call. What can I say?
Kyle
lunges at Nelson with a scream, grabbing him by the throat. Two Guards rush
forward to separate them, Nelson speaking in a constricted voice.
NELSON
I'm
sorry! I'm sorry! I'll make it up to you. You can have all my soap-on-a-rope...
The
Guards pull Kyle off Nelson, holding them both by the scruff of the neck.
GUARD
All
right, convicts. The warden wants to see you. I think his car needs washing
again.
Kyle
and Nelson groan miserably as the Guards laugh. Kyle waves sadly to Darcy as he
and Nelson are led away.
CUT TO:
INT.
WARDEN'S OUTER OFFICE - DAY
Kyle
and Nelson are led into the office by the Guards. The WARDEN'S SECRETARY sits
at her desk, watching a portable TV. Onscreen we see Palmer Harrison in a
cowboy outfit, pitching used cars while a pig pulls him in a cart.
GUARD
Prisoners
354327 and 354329 to see the warden.
NELSON
(correcting)
354328.
The
Secretary nods, never looking up from the TV screen.
WARDEN'S
SECRETARY
Go
on in.
INT.
WARDEN'S OFFICE
The
Guards bring Kyle and Nelson into the warden's office. The first Guard calls to
the WARDEN, who sits behind his desk, high-backed chair turned toward a picture
window.
GUARD
Prisoners
354327 and 35432...
(looks
to Nelson, who opens his mouth)
...
8 to see you, sir.
Grinning
at Nelson, the Guards step out of the room, closing the door behind them. Kyle
and Nelson stare at the back of the Warden's chair expectantly. Kyle speaks
uncertainly.
KYLE
Excuse
us... sir?
No
answer. Shrugging, Nelson steps to the desk, putting his hand on the Warden's
shoulder.
NELSON
Sir?
I don't mean to be rude, but we just washed your car yesterday...
The
chair slowly turns to reveal the Warden - mid-sixties, grey hair, and dead as a
doornail. Nelson grabs him by the wrist, checking his pulse. He looks up at
Kyle, a sneaky smile on his face. Kyle shakes his head, taking a step back
toward the door.
KYLE
Oh,
no. No way, Nelson. Not again...
NELSON
Piece
of cake.
Nelson
just grins as we...
FADE TO
BLACK
THE END