Selected Excerpts From Steven Alexander's Screenplays

FROM – “THE LONG WAY HOME” – By Steven Alexander

EXT. BELGIAN DINER - DAY

We are looking at a parking lot outside of a diner. It's a

quaint looking greasy spoon diner, Preceptor's Belgian Diner.

JIM's car pulls into frame and he hops out. Outside of the

diner, sitting on a bench at the edge of the lot is NICK

PANGLOSS.

He is a late twenty-something stoner-beatnik-philosopher

type. He's got on small wire-rimmed glasses and wild,

matted hair. He's smoking a cigarette and wearing a Peter

Paul and Mary T-Shirt that has "Puff the Magic Herb"

handwritten on it. He looks at JIM and smiles and addresses

him. He gets up as JIM approaches.

PANGLOSS

(smiling)

Hey-hey, baby, hey.

JIM

Hey, Pangloss.

PANGLOSS

(as he stands)

What the fuck are you up to,

and why have you graced the

wonderful world with your ever

enlightening personage this

morning? What's with the

midmorning call, huh? What I'm

trying to say is, aren't you

supposed to be at work?

JIM

Tell me about it.

19.

PANGLOSS

No, dummy, you tell me. Hence

the nature of my interogative

questions.

JIM

Well - for starters, My Dad

kicked me out this morning, I

just kissed Catie in the porn

room, her Dad caught us and I

just got fucking fired.

PANGLOSS

Well. Shit.

(inhales his cigarette)

That's some shit you're in, huh?

He EXHALES his smoke.

JIM

Yeah, well, what the hell do

you know? You've never even

been fired, much less ever had

a real job!

PANGLOSS offers up a grin and ashes his smoke.

PANGLOSS

Well, well, my gruesome little

friend, you are correct on

this manner. It would be

construed as truth that I have

not yet held what one calls a

traditional job, per se, but...

JIM

Oh, no, no, no, you're the

writer! I must have

forgotten.....

PANGLOSS

(half-joking)

Hey, don't knock it pal! It

may seem pithy to you, but it

gives me necessities, brother!

JIM

The bare necessities.

PANGLOSS

Just like Baloo said, bro! All

I need is some food, a couple

of smokes, a beer or six and a

place to live, brother.

20.

JIM

Necessities? God, I mean, I

can't believe you actually get

paid for writing shitty

tourism pamphlets for the

Syracuse Chamber of Commerce!

You don't even LIKE tourists -

or know anywhere interesting

to even send them.

PANGLOSS

Yeah, so?

JIM

That's not a job, it's an

occupation.

PANGLOSS

Sez you. And since when was

Video Store Clerk Fortune

500's most wanted job. I still

make money. As for you,

welcome to welfare, nitz.

PANGLOSS slaps him on the back, and they walk inside.

FADE AWAY TO:

INT. BELGIAN DINER - BOOTH - DAY

We are now inside of said diner, sitting at a quaint little

booth. The naugahahyde seats and little jukebox only

compliment the bottles of ketchup and mustard that lie, half

used, next to the salt and pepper shakers. The sugar

container sits next to the cup of coffee that is in front of

PANGLOSS. Also, there's an ashtray with a few expended

cigarette butts inside it.

JIM and PANGLOSS are seated at the booth and are continuing

the conversation that began in the parking lot.

PANGLOSS

Hey man, you're just not

listening. You gotta open your

ears and your mind, son!

JIM

(mocking)

Ooo, open your mind...

21.

PANGLOSS

(ignoring his sarcasm)

See, looking beyond the

limited sight of it all is

quite good, but your scope and

vision is a little off man.

See, what I mean is, Syracuse

is the best of all possible

places, man. Really.

JIM gives him a look of "Are you crazy?" when the waitress

brings over two huge plates of nice and greasy diner food

and sets them down on the table. PANGLOSS gives her a

toothy smile and she walks away, bored. JIM opens a sugar

packet and plays with it. He also picks at his food during

this. PANGLOSS, however, voraciously picks up his gigantic

sandwich and waves it around during the entire conversation.

PANGLOSS

Seriously, though, Kandede,

you fucking worry so much

about "how much things suck

here" that you can't see the

good most of the time.

JIM

I'm a pessamist.

PANGLOSS

That's a cop out word. People

use it cause it sounds big.

You're so obsessed with

"...how much better things are

else where?". Trust me, things

just suck everywhere.

JIM picks lazily at his food, disheartened.

JIM

Yeah right man. Why don't

things suck then in Manhattan?

PANGLOSS takes a huge bite of his sandwich and looks at JIM.

PANGLOSS

(mouth full)

You know, you are such a child

sometimes, K.

JIM

Ha! God man and you're such a

fucking pig sometimes!

22.

PANGLOSS

(swallows food)

You and that "city" thing.

Oh, it's a universal truth,

proved by great men like

Nietzsche, Yeats, Kerouac and

Johnny Cash that it sucks

pretty much everywhere.

JIM

Oh, you really are a dope

fiend, you know?

PANGLOSS shrugs ponders the validity of this statement and

continues.

PANGLOSS

Seriously, it's like an

Aristotelian philosophy or

something. Once one can

accept that there is nowhere

that is cool enough for your

vast and painted fantasies and

you realize that life just

sucks everywhere - you can be

happy where you are.

JIM

(guffaws)

Oh, come on. That's horse

shit! That just sounds like a

good excuse not to leave

Syracuse, or anywhere for that

matter.

PANGLOSS

Call it what you want friend,

but I know it's the truth.

I'm quite happy with where I am!

JIM

Okay then, Sigmeund Freud. Let

me elaborate further, here. I

mean, have you even ever left

Syracuse? Ever?

PANGLOSS

Yes. Once. I was very young

and naive. It was quite eye

opening.

JIM

Where did you go?

23.

PANGLOSS

Utica.

(beat)

It sucked there too.

JIM

You are so lame.

PANGLOSS

Anyway - after that harrowing

experience, I realized that

Plato was right, and that's

why I love Syracuse.

JIM

Aristotle.

PANGLOSS

Whatever. Could have been L.

Ron Hubbard for all I know,

really. But seriously, this IS

the best of all possible places.

JIM

Jesus...

PANGLOSS

See, Jim, we can break this

down here. People only need

simply three things: namely,

food to eat, a place to sleep,

and pardon the somewhat

peculiar and archaic

expression, uh, someone to

make love to.

JIM

What?

PANGLOSS

Oh, someone to fuck, you

unromantic asshole!

JIM

No, no, you idiot. I got what

you meant. I was addressing

the whole idiotic theory!

It's too simple; there's more

to deal with.

PANGLOSS

More?

24.

JIM

There's just MORE in the city,

ya know? More stores, shops,

restaurants, people. You can

walks blocks and it's like a

different world each block!

(beat)

I wanna meet cool people, ya

know? Go COOL places, do COOL

things, see COOL sights and

meet people who are... cool,

ya know?

PANGLOSS

Yeah, that's COOL!

(beat)

The pursuit of COOL, eh

lexicon boy? It's a usless

quest, my shortsighted friend.

JIM

Explain?

PANGLOSS

You see, that shit fades over

time, man. The different

worlds on each city block

become as mundane as Main

Street after a while - it's

like the universal human law

of like... Pythagoras's

inverse modus ponons and shit.

(beat)

Anyway - how the fuck does one

define cool, anyway? It's a

broad adjective.

JIM

(shrugs)

I dunno. I guess as "anyone

not from Syracuse"

PANGLOSS sighs and shifts his position in the booth. He

smiles and points at JIM.

PANGLOSS

See! There is your problem!

It's as clear as the nose on

my face! A diagnosis from Dr.

Pangloss here yields this: You

suffer from Syracuse municipal

and suburban malign!

(MORE)

25.

PANGLOSS (CONT'D)

I mean, do you really think

that people are so entirely

different anywhere else? Like,

that in other places exists

this secret brand of human

beings, that are bound to

coolness via DNA or something?

JIM

Um, yeah! Have I not made that

obvious?

PANGLOSS

Well, they're not and you're

still an idiot.

JIM

Whatever, man! God, arguing

with you makes me lose my

appetite.

PANGLOSS

I'm handy like that.

JIM

Let's just pay the check and

get out of here.

PANGLOSS

Cheer up, Charlie.

JIM

At least I can still look

forward to the Keema show.

It's the only thing that's

keeping me going at this point.

PANGLOSS

Way to go fan-boy. Keep the

positive thoughts in mind.

So, okay - let's go.

JIM

Okay, let's ante up for this

bill....

JIM grabs the bill and begins to look at it.

PANGLOSS

Hey now, my cultured doctor of

cool - just go ahead now...

26.

JIM

Wait, I mean, I thought you

were paying today....

PANGLOSS

Well, I don't have a real job,

remember? I sure as fuck don't

have any money. I mean, C'mon

Jim, you know cigarettes are

expensive in New York State.

PANGLOSS takes out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He

takes one out of the pack and puts it in his mouth.

PANGLOSS

High prices, high taxes? Kind

of makes you want to quit,

right? Hell no! Ah, all the

dumb legislators. They

couldn't make a good social

health tax law if they wanted.

The tax on cigarettes is

obviously an excise tax!

Designed to take money from

the common man and put more

pork in the politicians pocket.

A couple of hundred years ago,

when the Brit's outrageously

taxed our tea, we rebelled and

got our own friggin' country.

Smokers today are just lazy

and comfortable enough to let

the government TAX them up the

ass without complaining!

JIM just stares blankly at the crazy philosopher sitting in

front of him. PANGLOSS calmly inhales and continues speaking.

PANGLOSS (CONT'D)

It's a persons right in this

country to simply choose, even

if it is bad for them - most

of us know that anyway, and we

still don't give a fuck.

Legislators. Trying to make us

quit buy bullying us with

money and taxes. Taxation,

without proper representation?

Sounds fucking British to me,

eh? How can they make laws

like that, when they, as non-

smokers, can clearly fail to

see a smokers rights as well?

(MORE)

27.

PANGLOSS (CONT'D)

Like it's their job to police

our habits. It's like

vegetarians making laws

against hamburgers or

something. I tell you Jim,

we're letting the wrong people

just tell us what to do. And

they pretend like their doing

the public some good health

service, when the bottom line

is that the high taxes are

just there to raise money. It

all comes down to money and

politics. See, the government

was much more efficient and

generally in better shape back

when everyone just smoked!

Everyone was just more

relaxed and shit, plus they

died younger so they couldn't

get old and senile and foul up

the delicate chains of

government -just think, in

like 30 years we're gonna have

a senate full of old, senile

assholes just like that Strom

Thurmond character!

PANGLOSS pauses and finally lights his cigarette that has

been dangling from his lip. He inhales, and stares at the

smoke that wafts up, hazily from the end.

PANGLOSS (CONT'D)

God, I love these things.

JIM

(amused)

Well, Okay, Joe Camel - that's

all well and nice, but what

about the fucking bill?

PANGLOSS

Hey man, I gotta piss. You

figure it out. Here's a

quarter for the tip.

PANGLOSS flips him a quarter and gets up to go to the

bathroom. JIM shrugs and give him a look. He takes out his

wallet as PANGLOSS walks towards the bathroom and out of sight.

FROM “LAID” by Steven Alexander

EXT. L.J. BRANNIGAN'S BAR - NIGHT

We fade in to the exterior of a posh club-type bar in

downtown Syracuse, New York. The bar is L.J. Brannigan's

and it's the typical twenty-something meat market club.

GIRLS DRESSED to the hootchie-nines stroll in and out of the

club, yakking away and smoking their Marlboro Light's and

Newport's. Most of the GUYS going in are marked by their

SHORT GREASY HAIR, neatly coifed facial hair, tight shirts

and bad gold chains.

ELLIOT(V.O.)

Sometimes you just gotta

unwind after the grind.

Everybody does it differently,

but there does seem to be this

trend during your twenties,

where you go out to bars a lot.

Outside of the club, DERRICK, still in his work clothes,

smokes a cigarette. A young guy, also clothed in a Larry's

outfit strolls up. This is KEVIN PRESTON, 22. He nods to

Derrick.

DERRICK

Jesus, would you look at this

place?

KEVIN

Yeah. I know man.

DERRICK

These people.

(beat)

I mean, do they ever REALLY

stop to look at themselves in

the mirror?

KEVIN

I'm sure they do. Lots of

times. Look how pretty they are!

DERRICK

Yeah, but do they even

consider what they are really

doing here?

Kevin pulls out a smoke and lights it.

KEVIN

Probably not. How often do

you consider where you are and

what you're doing?

DERRICK

Point. But, seriously. I do

think about who I am at least.

(shrugs)

I suppose it's really none of

our concern, anyway. We don't

frequent such places.

Kevin nods in agreement, then poses a question.

KEVIN

Well, if this place is so un-

appealing to us, why do you

always stop rightn here after

work?

DERRICK

Honestly, not for the merits

of the actual club. I like

the outside...

(MORE)

DERRICK (CONT'D)

I enjoy standing here, having

a smoke and watching these

cretins go in and out of this

shit-hole more than I would

actually like to go inside!

KEVIN

You've got a sickness, man,

for people watching. It's

bordering on obsession.

Derrick smiles and puffs. Kevin shakes his head. Elliot

walks up the street, to the scene. He is dressed in a t-

shirt and cargo shorts. He waves as he walks over.

ELLIOT

Hey. What's happening?

KEVIN

The usual.

ELLIOT

The usual being "let's stop at

the club after work, and watch

the pretty people look stupid"

routine?

DERRICK

Hey, bro. You nailed it.

You're so smart.

DERRICK smiles. ELLIOT smiles back.

KEVIN

I was just talking to Derrick

about his people watching

problem.

DERRICK

No, really man, I'm serious

about it all.

ELLIOT

We know, we know.

DERRICK

I mean, just watch some of

these people. Check out the

way that they walk in. The

lines they use, the bad body

language. It's all so simple...

ELLIOT

I love it when you get

intellectual.

DERRICK

...And most of these people

that come here only want to

get laid.

KEVIN

So what's wrong with that?

DERRICK

Techincally, nothing at all, man!

ELLIOT

(sarcastic)

Right.

DERRICK

Hell, I mean, isn't that what

we all want to do?

ELLIOT

Try to get laid?

DERRICK

Or get laid, Poindexter.

ELLIOT

Whatever.

DERRICK

Yes, we all want to get laid.

KEVIN

Correct.

ELLIOT

So, what is the difference

here, Derrick? I'd like to

hear your definitive defensive

dissertation.

DERRICK

Holy Bad alliteration, Batman!

(Elliot frowns)

The difference with us lies

herein: everyone here, right,

in this "club" world has a

carefully constructed

facade -- a "falsity" that

they not only project, but

that they fall for and believe

in the others around them.

For this one night, they build

up this image, that is meant

to be shattered when the

morning comes, and yet they

all, men and women, believe in

this veneer of shit! It's

their first mistake, and it

starts a vicious circle.

ELLIOT

I think I get your drift.

KEVIN

Okay, simpler: They play the

"image" game! Like the guys

have to be hot, cool, and yet

somewhat caring and sensitive,

just to be able to get their

rocks off.

DERRICK

And the girls have to pretend

to be sexy, yet demure. Pure,

but tempting. Nice and

innocent, when you know all

they want is to be filled out

like an exam.

ELLIOT and KEVIN laugh.

KEVIN

Truth said, women got to stop

pretending that they don't

wanna get laid or something.

Doesn't it seem like when they

talk to a guy, a lot of times

it's like, "eww...sex? Not for

me. I'm a GOOD girl."

ELLIOT

That is kind of true. Girls

pretend like sex is gross most

times.

10.

KEVIN

Well, maybe just sex with you...

ELLIOT frowns, again.

KEVIN

Just kidding.

DERRICK

But, also, I bet a lot of

these people think that

they're really gonna find true

love, right?

KEVIN

(singing)

"Looking for Loooove in all

the wrong places, looking for

looooove!!!"

ELLIOT laughs.

DERRICK

Right! You're never gonna

find love from someone you

just fucking boinked after

coming home with them from a bar!

KEVIN

(sarcastically)

Well, you never know....

DERRICK

I mean, usually you're drunk,

performance is not optimal,

and the sex isn't that great

either, right? Then, in the

morning, when reality comes

crashing in on BOTH of you,

you think that LOVE is gonna

creep into the harsh sunlight,

that brings every flaw,

physical and mental, to light?

You're going to wake up after

a sweaty, alchol fueled knight

next to a princess or a prince?

No! You're gonna wake up next

to a half-clothed weirdo,

whose hair is sticking to your

pillow, and can't spit out a

proper sentence.

ELLIOT

So true.

11.

DERRICK

Like "love", or that cheesy

Hallmark definition that has

somehow crept into everyone's

mind, is going to spring from

some FANATASY you deftly

created in your head the night

before, just so you could have

an excuse to get laid? I

think not.

KEVIN

Agreed.

DERRICK

People just gotta stop all the

pretending, the games and the

varnish, and admit when they

just want to get laid, and

that's it.

ELLIOT

Right on.

They watch some people come and go. Typical "beautiful" club

going people. ELLIOT laughs. DERRICK and KEVIN grimace

when they see the pretty boys go by, but still check out the

hot chicks that walk in.

DERRICK

Watching these people and

dissecting their behavior

makes me feel better about the

miscreant I am.

ELLIOT

Well, whatever makes you happy.

KEVIN

I guess so.

A GROUP OF BAR-HOPPERS comes out of the club. There are a

few guys and a couple of girls. A J.CREW DUDE shouts.

J.CREW DUDE

Hey, everybody, let's go to

the Half-Penny...

AD-LIBS of "yeah" and "let's go." They party moves on down

the street, like a herd of sheep.

12.

ELLIOT

God, these places are just a

meeting place for the

faithless followers, and who

knows what they're following?

KEVIN

Yeah, right? The loudest guy?

DERRICK

Man, do you know how EASY it

is to get people going in one

of these places, too?

ELLIOT

Oh, god, it doesn't take much.

See, you either wanna get laid

or in a fight. It's the whole

herd mentality.

DERRICK

Okay, so let's have a little fun.

KEVIN

What are you planning?

DERRICK

Just watch, man.

A cute looking couple, a GAP GIRL and an ABERCROMBIE and

FITCH boy walk past, cooing sweet nothings to each other and

being rather affectionate. DERRICK flicks his cigarette

butt at them as they pass. It strikes the boy and he turns

around in shock.

ABERCROMBIE BOY

Hey! Who the fuck just threw

that shit at me?

ELLIOT stares in disbelief, while DERRICK maintains a

"concerned" face. KEVIN takes a cue and steps up and speaks...

KEVIN

I think it was that meat-head

over there, man.

(points to a

BIG-JOCK GUY)

I heard him say something when

you walked by... something

about "you not being worth

that..." oh, what did he say,

something like you don't

deserve that piece of ass your

walking with, I dunno.

13.

DERRICK

(pointing)

Yeah, what a dickhead that

jock asshole is.

ELLIOT

(getting in)

Uh, yeah. What a fuckhole!

THEY ALL point to this tall, stocky and built club goin dude.

He's typical. Short, short hair with too much gel, TIGHT

black shirt, gold chains... the works.

The ABERCROMBIE BOY strolls up to the MEATHEAD-JOCK DUDE,

and they begin to argue. The argument erupts into a full on

fight, which elaborates into a big brawl.

Several others guys, along with bouncers and girls bust into

this huge, meaningless fight.

THE BOYS calmly talk through it all, and step out of screen

to move on as the fight progresses.

DERRICK

(to Elliot)

Fuckhole?

ELLIOT

Sorry, I panicked.

DERRICK

Bitch, I almost wet myself.

ELLIOT

Haha. God.

KEVIN

Well, that was too easy.

DERRICK

Fuckin' people today. I weep

for the future. One can now

clearly see Darwin's theories

in working action.

FROM “Stuck In The Middle” or “Get The Door” by Steve Alexander and Robert Dustin

FADE IN:

INT - PORTER'S APARTMENT - PRESENT - NIGHT

As the picture fades in to view, we pan upon the dirty

living room of a cheap apartment. From the view outside

the window, we can see the landmark "HOLLYWOOD" sign in the

back. The "HOLLYWOOD" sign moves suddenly and we see that

it was a stenciled painting on the side of a dumpster. The

window reveals and alleyway with another cookie-cutter

apartment building about 20 feet away. The walls have many

photographs in frames and various awards. The floor,

however, is an entangled mess of papers, trash and empty

beer and booze containers. We continue our pan across the

room, across the effiecieny kitchen, with it's threadbare

refrigerator and messy counter to a sparse living room.

LIVING ROOM

There, nestled in an old La-Z-Boy chair sit's an older

looking man. He would look refined and clipped, if his

slightly balding hair were combed down and his moustache

were trimmed a bit. Flecks of gray outline his temples and

his clothes fit a little too tightly around his slightly

portly body. This is REGINALD PORTER, former star of the

popular 80's sitcom "Get The Door!". He is snoring and

clutching a bottle of expensive imported scotch in one hand.

Beside him is another award shaped like an upside-down

horn?on the side it plaque it reads, "Best New Stage Actor:

1973 Royal Shakespearean Company". It's filled with a

mixture of Beer Nuts and Bugles.

He stirs lightly as the phone begins to ring beside him.

He turns a bit. The phone continues to ring.

PORTER

(sleeping)

....uh.... shut up.......

The phone keeps ringing. Porter stirs. He licks his lips

and notices his mouth is dry. Without even opening his

eyes, he remembers exactly where he keeps his scotch, picks

up the bottle, takes a long slug and angrily picks up the

phone and shouts in it.

PORTER (CONT'D)

WHAT!!? Oh Jesus, it's you

again, you bastard? I'm not

going to buy your fucking

Easter Seals stamps, so piss

off! PISS OFF!

He slams the phone down. He swigs the scotch again, grabs

the remote and turns on the TV. He glances at the screen,

his eyes light up as one of the Baywatch girls bounds down

the beach in slow motion. Then, within seconds, he's

snoring loudly again. The phone rings again shortly there

after. PORTER grabs the phone angrily.

PORTER (CONT'D)

Jesus Christ! I'm gonna come

down there and thrash...I told

you already that I didn't want...

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

DAD! DAD!! SNAP OUT OF IT!

PORTER

Oh, shit...huh?......

Bryan..... Hey, son. Uh, how

are you?

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Fine dad. You sound drunk again.

PORTER

No, no, I was just watching TV.

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Come on, dad...I can smell the

liquor through the receiver.

I bought it for you for

Christ's sake. You know

you've got to stop feeling

sorry for yourself.

PORTER

Okay. I'll feel sorry for

yourself.

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Funny dad. Obviously you got

the present I sent you.

PORTER

Yeah, thanks...... it was

very..... nice.

I...umm...loved it.

PORTER (CONT'D)

Oh? The case? Yeah.....I got

it...

(under his breath)

and consumed it.

The CAMERA pans to an empty case of SCOTCH in the corner.

CUT TO:

INT - BRYAN PORTER'S OFFICE - KBC STUDIOS - NIGHT

We now see the office of BRYAN PORTER,32, the voice at the

other end of the phone. BRYAN is young, vibrant and

attractive. He is an executive in charge of programming at

KBC TV studios. On his wall we see various awards, but

most noticeably is a poster that has three nubile young

actors on it with the caption "JACKSON'S COVE"

BRYAN PORTER

Well, Dad... I've got a

proposal for you.

PORTER

What? Do you need a janitor

for a background shot on

Jackson's Cove or something?

Or will you even let your

father touch your baby?

BRYAN PORTER

Oh, god, Dad. The show is

great -yeah, but my offer for

you is something else.

PORTER

Oh sure. Great. What do you

need ME for? A fucking DOG

FOOD commercial? Or maybe you

just want to film me being

kicked in the nuts while I

wear a T-shirt that reads

"Washed Up Actor" on it...

BRYAN PORTER

No, dad...christ - give me

some credit here - you know

there's been a resurgence in

80's culture again.

Particularly 80's television.

PORTER

Oh, I know - the residuals

keep COMING. I think I piled

up $1.35 last week, son, but

thanks for asking!

BRYAN PORTER

Well, the network wants to do

a........ special.....

PORTER

For what? What the hell are

you talking about?

BRYAN PORTER

Well, the Cosby special was

through the roof...... so,

they want to do a...

CUT BACK TO:

INT - PORTER'S APARTMENT - CONTINUOUS

PORTER

You're telling me they want to

do a reunion show

for........."Get The Door?" I

mean - a fucking Get The

Fucking Door reunion? Jesus

Christ, kid the nut kicking in

the T-shirt doesn't sound so

bad now...

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Well, yeah - and they want me

to helm it, ya know.......I

know how much you hated the

show and how you think it

ruined your career and all,

but dad, think about it...

PORTER

Bloody hell......

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Well, Dad, at least think

about it...... the money.......

PORTER

Fucking money!

BRYAN PORTER (O.S.)

Whatever. Can you at least

consider it?

PORTER

I'll call you back....

PORTER hangs up the phone. He collapses back in his chair.

TIGHT ON PORTER'S FACE

We focus on his chubby pale unbelieving face. It's obvious

that a lot of memories (not so good ones) are flooding back

to him through the alcohol fog that he is quickly recovering

from. Zooming in close to his eye until we reach only the

pupil. We pull back VERY FAST AND.........

DISSOLVE TO:

INT - TIMMON'S OFFICE - 1986 - DAY

We PULL OUT fast from the pupil of PORTER - who now looks

just a bit younger, and much more well manicured. A TV in

the background is playing an old "Donohue" clip.

The time is now 1986 - and we are in KYLE TIMMONS office.

KYLE is PORTER'S agent. PORTER is sitting in a plush chair

in front of TIMMON's DESK. He's alone, and reading a

magazine, "Thespian Monthly". TIMMONS enters the room. He

is in his late thirties, small, thin and slightly balding,

yet he tries to maintain an air of hipness in his Miami Vice

inspired white suit. PORTER chuckles.

PORTER

Hullo, Timmons. Been watching

MTV, Lately?

TIMMONS gives a slight frown.

TIMMONS

Hey, I have to try to look the

part. I was at Universal

trying to negotiate a roll for

Tracey on "Miami Vice"

PORTER

You're supposed to get her a

roll, not yourself, Don Knotts.

TIMMONS

That's Don Johnson, you limey!

DON KNOTTS was Gomer Pyle on

Andy Griffith...

PORTER

I know who the hell Don Knotts

is. You LOOK like Don Knotts.

And not the Andy Griffith Don

Knotts...I'm talking about the

Mr. Furley, Three's Company

Don Knotts...

TIMMONS

You look like...... a limey.

PORTER

I wasn't aware we had a

certain look, good fellow.

TIMMONS

Whatever. Anyway, how are you?

PORTER

Fine, it's good to be back.

TIMMONS

So, you enjoyed your time on

the stage, eh?

PORTER

I always love playing King Lear.

TIMMONS

Yah, yah. Anyway - I got this

new job for ya. I think

you're really gonna take to

this one...

PORTER gives TIMMONS a raised eyebrow, unbelieving look.

PORTER

What is it?

TIMMONS

Well, NBS is making a new

sitcom -it's about a british

nanny that lives with a well

meaning, but newly rich

American family.

PORTER

Hmmm...nouveau riche Americans

and their amusingingly

straightlaced British

nanny...who's the genius

behind this baby? It sounds

stimulating...... to

cattle...and where the hell

would I fit in?

TIMMONS

Just hear me out, ok?

PORTER

Fine. Continue.

TIMMONS

Okay... let's see. You'd

be...the nanny.

(tosses script)

It's called "Get The Door"

PORTER flashes TIMMONS another incredulous look

PORTER

Do you realize I traveled with

the Royal Shakespearean Company?

TIMMONS

Look, Reg - you need work.

PORTER

Well....I'm just biding my

time for the right part...

TIMMONS

Take the job. Swallow your

pride.

PORTER

I don't like this.

TIMMONS

I don't like my wife, but she

cooks my meals.

TIMMONS (CONT)

You like getting paid. Think

of Anita and Bryan.

PORTER

Fine.

PORTER snatches the script and stands.

PORTER

But if I don't like it...

TIMMONS

Don't worry - it's funny!

PORTER grimaces. TIMMONS gives a half-hearted smile.

From “RADIO CITY” by Steven Alexander

EXT - CHRIS'S HOUSE - DAY

We're looking at an older house in the city. It's nice, in

a shabby bohemian sort of way. It's obvious that guys live

there; the flowerbed out front has beer cans and bottles

strewn about. An ashtray lies on a table on the porch.

There are several lawn chairs on the porch. Two are

occupied by two sleeping young men. They are unkempt, and

wild looking. One is JACK and the other is KYLE. They

have wild hair. Jack is wearing a t-shirt that says "Fat

Chicks Only" - the back, which is revealed later says

"Serve Good Breakfast". He is covered in beer cans. Kyle

is strewn across the chair in an odd way. His hands are

curled like a dead dog and he is wearing sunglasses. It's

obvious they passed out the night before during a wild binge.

Two women float out of the front door. They say goodbye to

our sleeping hero's, who do not wake up. They are perplexed.

They giggle and one of the girls lifts her shirt and

flashes them quickly, just to mess with them. Quicker than

lightning, JACK wakes up and screams....

JACK

Boobies! Holy shit!

The girls giggle and scream and he jumps off the chair and

starts to chase them. He stops when he notices a full beer

on the ground. He picks up the beer and starts to drink it.

JACK

Ahh, nothin' like a good beer and

an early mornin' flashin, I always

say. Ahhhh!!!

He sips the beer and walks back to the front porch. Kyle is

now sitting and smoking a cigarette. He hands one to JACK.

JACK

Thank you, my good man. I need to

sit down; I'm just getting started.

KYLE finishes his smoke. He puts it out in a grapefruit

that has been cut in half. It is filled with cigarette butts.

JACK (CONT'D)

Ah, the butt-fruit is almost

complete. This is going to be our

masterpiece. Warhol had Campbell's

Soup; we've got the butt-fruit.

We're gonna be famous.

KYLE

Yep.

JACK

Yessir, we are.

CHRIS's car comes pulling into the driveway.

CUT AWAY TO:

INT - CHRIS'S CAR -

ANGLE on the clock. We see by the clock that it is 8:37 AM

CUT BACK TO:

EXT - PORCH - DAY

KYLE and JACK are shouting out fake insults at him. CHRIS

hops out, and ambles up the driveway.

CHRIS

Morning, boys. How was last night?

KYLE

It rocked. You played "Dogs" last

night.

JACK

Cigarette break, eh?

CHRIS

Bet your ass. I was working with

Amie last night.

JACK AND KYLE

Oooh!

JACK

She is one...

KYLE

...fine piece...

JACK AND KYLE

...of ass.

CHRIS

I don't know man. She's Amie.

She's always been Amie. We grew up

together for god sakes.

JACK

All the more reason to tap it man.

It's like the movies man; the

perfect girl is the one you grew up

with man! I couldn't have written

this better.

CHRIS

Yeah, you could have. I could have

been neighbors with Kirsten Dunst.

KYLE

That's sick man; she's like 10

years younger than you.

CHRIS

Yeah, but she's still hot. I mean

look at her in those pictures from

her last movie. I never saw such a

happy t-shirt.

JACK

I'm with CHRIS on this one Kyle. I

think I bought some pom-poms after

I saw "Bring It On".

CHRIS

You actually saw that piece of shit?

JACK

Yeah, didn't you?

They look at each other; smile and then shrug.

KYLE

That's fucked up. I know I'm

getting old.

CHRIS

What do you mean?

KYLE

When we were younger and in

college, all the hot Hollywood

types we wanted to bang were our age.

CHRIS

Except Raquel Welch, man. Give

credit where it's due.

Kyle and Jack look at him strangely for a second and then

Kyle continues

KYLE

You just know when you're older

when the girls you dream of banging

now were still wearing friendship

bracelets when you first discovered

masturbation.

CHRIS

That's fucked up man, seriously.

This is what drinking in the

morning does to you

KYLE

No, seriously, I mean the first

time you tossed a load; she wasn't

even like 10, man.

JACK

He does have a point. I'm a baaaad

boy.

They all laugh. CHRIS lights a smoke and plops down in a

chair.

CHRIS

I'm so damn bored. My life is so

fucking pointless and boring

JACK

Well, that's a terrificly stated

thesis on said life, there, Emily

Dickinson.

KYLE

Sorry, man. I was kidding. I'm

really sorry you didn't get injured

at work, man.

CHRIS

Christ, you pulled your back out a

year ago lifting a case of Slim-

Jims at the Quickie Mart

KYLE

And I'm still getting a paycheck

every week. I love being the crack

in the system.

JACK

You're the ass crack of the system

man!

KYLE

I didn't even like Slim Jim's then.

Now I can't get enough of that

hurky-jerky.

JACK

You should get a dehydrator. You

can make your own Jerky in that.

KYLE

I could also dry my weed in it.

That's a good idea.

JACK

God, look what you've spawned, CHRIS.

CHRIS

Shit. I'm sorry! Fuck off!

Anyway - this DJ-ing thing is

getting boring. We can't do

anything fun. I basically say the

station name, and the song name and

settle into commercial oblivion.

JACK

Hey man, it's a job, right?

CHRIS

Yeah. I guess.

CHRIS inhales on his cigarette and begins to ponder. Kyle

and Jack are fidgeting and fooling around. The Phone rings.

Jack and Kyle show no interest, so CHRIS gets up to answer it.

CHRIS (CONT'D)

Hello?

CHRIS nods, and listens. His face contorts several times,

and he says goodbye. He walks back out to the porch, where

Jack and Kyle are thumb wrestling.

CHRIS (CONT'D)

That was weird.

KYLE

I know. Jack's fucking thumb is

too large. You gotta stop sticking

that thing in your ass.

JACK

Fuck off, Toby! You're just

jealous 'cause I'm better than you

KYLE

At what, jacking off? I knew that

Ben Stiller.

CHRIS

Jesus, you guys are fucked up. I

meant my phone call.

KYLE

The phone rang?

JACK

I thought that was just a part of

my hangover.

CHRIS

No, you reject. That was my uncle.

JACK

Uncle Moneybags Tom?

CHRIS

The very same. It seems he wants

to talk to me about the direction

of the station.

10.

JACK

That's cool, right. Did he seemed

pissed?

CHRIS

No - and that's what I'm worried

about.

KYLE

Why?

CHRIS

Because he's more devious when he's

not mad…