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[1997]The Game 心理游戏

时间:2007-10-27 22:06:05来源: 作者:

Game, The (1997)
by John Brancato and Michael Ferris and Larry Gross and Andrew Kevin Walker.
Draft script. 2/8/96.
More info about this movie on imdb.com


EXT.  MANSION -- DAY -- HOME MOVIES



A stately mansion.  A perfect lawn.  A BUTLER carries a

birthday cake with sparking sparklers...



Past wealthy MEN in crewcuts and thin ties, WOMEN in cat-eye

sunglasses.  Everyone sings (silent) "Happy Birthday"...



CHILDREN follow the cake, in dresses and suits, gathering

round NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, 7, guest of honor, who wears a

blindfold.  MOTHER comes to remove the blindfold and

Nicholas ogles the cake, laughs.  He reaches for a sparkler.

STEP PRINT: Mother intercepts, fussing, fixing his hair...



Nicholas' FATHER sits near, smoking, nodding.  He's intense,

thin, wearing a party hat.  He notcies the camera without

mugging for it, bends to snuff his cigarette in an ashtray.



SPLICE-JUMP TO/STEP PRINT: a Harlequin CLOWN ties balloon

animals.  Nicholas assists, distracted by the inattentive

children who look into the camera and pull hair and stand on

their chairs...



Men are drinking, storytelling, laughing.  A fraternity...



The women are elsewhere, doing movie-vamp poses for the

camera, blowing cigarette smoke, brightly dressed, eyelids

blue and green, lipstick perfect...



Servants clear the table.  Father holds a piece of untouched

cake.  A man talks to him, but Father stares off, lost in

thought.  He's forgotten the party hat on his head...



STEP PRINT: Mother puts her arms around Father and makes him

face the camera.  He leans in, posing dutifully.



SPLICE-JUMP TO: a nanny in uniform, ILSA, holds an INFANT

(CONRAD) to the camera, places the baby in Nicholas' arms.

STEP PRINT: Nicholas is gentle, overwhelmed by cradling his

tiny brother.



SPLICE-JUMP TO: children play tag.  Across the lawn, Father

heads to the house.  He looks back, walks backwards.

STEP PRINT: he gives a small wave, continuing away...



Kids chase past.  Nicholas and two other kids huddle, arms

locked, spinning round and round, till they stumble

different directions, falling, laughing, dizzy...



Nicholas gets up, wearing a PUPPET on each hand.

STEP PRINT: He walks CLOSE and peers in the camera, steps

back, happily talking.  We can't hear because it's SILENT...



                                              DISSOLVE TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, BATHROOM -- MORNING



The emotionless face of NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, just today 40,

looks upon itself in a mirror.  He brings an electric shaver

across his chin, shuts it off, wipes his face with a towel.



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- MORNING



Nicholas crosses.  The bedroom is spacious, devoid of

clutter.  A weight-machine in a far corner.  A big T.V.

shows CNN with no sound.



At a bedside table, Nicholas picks up a heavy, gold ROLEX,

sliding it on, checking the time.  6:32.



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT



Nicholas stands at the kitchen islandm his tie thrown over

his shoulder, eating breakfast.  ILSA, now elderly, is

across the way doing dishes.



The only sounds are the tiny clicks of Nicholas' knife and

fork against his plate.  He's reading a German newspaper.



Nicholas jabs the last piece of egg, skewers the last bit of

ham and last square of toast.  Plate's clean.



He sips his last swallow of juice, dabs his mouth with a

napkin, picks up his briefcase and heads to a back door.



                     NICHOLAS

               (without looking)

          Thank you.



                     ILSA

          Have a nice day.



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- MORNING



Nicholas walks down a garden pathway to a three-car garage.

He looks at his Rolex.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- MORNING



Bentley Continental Coupe.  Quiet.  Nicholas drives, begins

humming, barely audible.  A Prince song, "Erotic City."



                     NICHOLAS

               (sings, to self)

          ...until the dawn... making love till

          cherry's gone..

               (humming, quiet)

          ... Erotic City, you and me...



Nicholas changes lanes, HONKING the HORN, impassive.  We can

BARELY HEAR the BEEPING in here.  He glances back.



He drives, adjusts his mirror.  Resumes humming.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  VAN ORTON BUILDING -- MORNING



Distinctive SAN FRANCISCO skyline on the horizon.

Nicholas' building is a brownstone bookended by skyscrapers.

Old money dwarfed by new.  The Bentley arrives...



INT.  VAN ORTON BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING



The Bentley moves past a valet station.  One VALET follows.



The Bentley takes its place.  A brass plaque reads:

"NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, Van Orton Enterprises."  The valet

opens the car door for Nicholas.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON OFFICE -- MORNING



Two objects on Nicholas' desk: phone and laptop computer.

He's on the phone, operating the laptop with one hand.

Business talk, mile-a-minute.



                     MALE VOICE (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          ... might be perched up on majority

          shares, but you're not the only one

          who gets hurt if the actuals crash.

          Forecasts were fucked to begin with.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into phone)

          The moment Baer/Grant's P and L

          report is placed in my hand, I will

          be speed dialing your number.



Empty walls.  No distractions.  MARIA, the proper executive

assistant, stands practically at attention.



                     MALE VOICE (v.o.)

          Is that a promise?



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm sorry... I'm unfamiliar with the

          term.



                     MALE VOICE (v.o.)

          What if Alan calls me with a sob

          story about substantiation procedure?



                     NICHOLAS

          Take evasive action: have your

          secretary say you're in a meeting.

          Goodbye, Jack.



                     MALE VOICE (v.o.)

          Yeah.



Nicholas hangs up, shuffling computer windows: stock quotes,

pie-charts, graphs, lists.  Maria refers to an index card.



                     MARIA

          Invitations: the Museum Gala.



                     NICHOLAS

          No.



                     NICHOLAS

          The Fitzwilliam Botanical Garden

          Annual Fundraiser.



                     NICHOLAS

          No.



                     NICHOLAS

          The Hinchberger wedding.



                     NICHOLAS

          Let me think...

               (sits back, eyes closed)

          Hordes of men in tuxedos.  Everyone's

          droning.  Ludwell's trying to break

          the ice by reciting an off-color

          limerick...



                     MARIA

               (impatient)

          I'll send your regrets.  Honestly,

          why must I even bother?



                     NICHOLAS

          Because, if you don't know about

          society, you don't have the

          satisfaction of avoiding it.



A KNOCK and a female ASSISTANT enters.  There's a lot more

NOISE and ACTIVITY behind her.



                     ASSISTANT

          Elizabeth on line three.



Nicholas taps his fingers on his lips, considering.



                     MARIA

          Your ex-wife.



                     NICHOLAS

          I know who she is.

               (to assistant)

          Take a message.



                     ASSISTANT

          Um... Happy Birthday, sir.



Nicholas squints.



                     MARIA

               (icily)

          Thank you, Maggie.



The assistant backs out.  Nicholas returns to his computer.



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't like her.



                     MARIA

          I wouldn't mention the following,

          except he was very insistent.  It's

          obviously some sort of prank...



                     NICHOLAS

          What?



                     MARIA

          A gentleman left a message requesting

          a lunch, but I assured him...



                     NICHOLAS

          What gentleman, Maria?



                     MARIA

          A Mister... Seymour Butts.



Nicholas looks up.  He sits back, lost in thought.



                     NICHOLAS

               (to himself)

          "Under the Bleachers"... by Seymour

          Butts.



                     MARIA

          Pardon me?  I'm afraid I don't...



                     NICHOLAS

          Cancel lunch.  Make reservations at

          Campton Place for me and Mr. Butts.



Maria nods, heading out, high heels clicking as she crosses.



                     NICHOLAS

          And, put the reservation in my name.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- DAY



Upscale.  Quiet.  Nicholas is in a booth facing the rear,

studying a thick FINANCIAL STATEMENT, making tiny notations.

A WAITRESS arrives.



                     WAITRESS

          Ready to order, sir?



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm still waiting...



Nicholas points out the other plate.  The waitress leaves.



                     NICHOLAS

          Excuse me...



She returns.  He slides his empty glass toward her.



                     NICHOLAS

          This was iced tea.



He's returned to his report.  The waitress takes the glass

and leaves, irritated.  Nicholas checks his watch.  An

EXAGGERATED SNEEZE is HEARD and liquid hits the back of his

neck -- AH-CHOO!...



Nicholas jumps, sickened, turning to face CONRAD, who holds

a spray bottle and smiles.



                     CONRAD

          Hey there, Nickie.



                     NICHOLAS

               (repulsed)

          Conrad, what a surprise.  Gesundheit.



                     CONRAD

          Happy Birthday, man.



                     NICHOLAS

               (nods)

          "Seymour Butts."  I never get tired

          of that one.



                     CONRAD

          That's why it's a classic.  Come on,

          man... how 'bout a hug... ?



Nicholas is wiping his neck with a napkin as Conrad forces a

hug on him.  Conrad takes a seat, good-lookingm unkempt,

tan, wearing a too-big suit jacket.



                     CONRAD

          They gave me a free jacket at the

          door.



                     NICHOLAS

          They'll be wanting it back.



                     CONRAD

          Not after I'm done with it.

               (laughs)

          Actually, I've been here.  In

          grad-school I bought crystal-meth

          from the maitre d'.



                     NICHOLAS

          Which grad-school?



Conrad smiles.  The brothers take each other in for a

moment.  Long moment.  They're a bit stunned to be reunited.



                     NICHOLAS

          You look good.



                     CONRAD

          So do you.  And to think I was

          worried...



                     NICHOLAS

          About me?



                     CONRAD

          How long's it been?  Since mom

          died... four years?  How are you?



                     NICHOLAS

          Never better.



                     CONRAD

          Elizabeth?



                     NICHOLAS

          Divorced.  Remarried to some

          pediatrician or gynecologist, or

          pediatric gynaecologist, in Sausalito.



                     CONRAD

          Too bad, I liked her.  So, you're all

          alone in the House of Pain?



                     NICHOLAS

          I redecorated.  What about you?



                     CONRAD

          Nowhere in particular.  Don't you

          keep track of my whereabouts anymore?



                     NICHOLAS

          Connie... what brings you here?  Is

          everything alright?



                     CONRAD

          Yeah.



                     NICHOLAS

          You need anything?



                     CONRAD

          No.



                     NICHOLAS

          Really?



                     CONRAD

          I don't need anything from you.  I

          was laying on a beach somewhere in

          Spain, naked, and, it hit me --

          Nickie's birthday.  So, here I am,

          four layovers, twenty-seven hours

          flying and one donkey ride later.

          Not necessarily in that order.



Conrad drops an envelope on the table.



                     CONRAD

          For you.



                     NICHOLAS

          You shouldn't have.



Nicholas opens it, takes out a sappy, Hallmark B-day card.

A BUSINESS CARD falls out.  Nicholas picks it up...



                     CONRAD

          What do you get for the man who has

          just slightly more than everything?



The card: "Consumer Recreation Services."  With a

PHONE NUMBER and ADDRESS below.



                     CONRAD

          Call that number.



                     NICHOLAS

          "Consumer Recrreation Services."

          What, do they make golf clubs?



                     CONRAD

          Trust me.  Call that number.



                     NICHOLAS

          Why?



                     CONRAD

          They make your life fun.  Their only

          guarantee is you will not be bored.



                     NICHOLAS

          Fun?



                     CONRAD

          You've heard of it.  You've seen

          other people having it.  They're an

          entertainment service, but more than

          that.



                     NICHOLAS

          This isn't an escort service?



                     CONRAD

          It's a profound life experience.



                     NICHOLAS

          Like a stroke?



                     CONRAD

          Call them.  Trust me.



The waitress shows up with Nicholas' iced tea, spills some.

Nicholas blots it up with a napkin.



                     WAITRESS

          Sorry.  Let me get you another

          napkin.



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll be fine... if we could just...



She moves off as Nicholas raises a finger to order, ignored.



                     CONRAD

          Tell me you'll call.



                     NICHOLAS

          Okay.



                     CONRAD

          Will you?



                     NICHOLAS

          I said I would...



                     CONRAD

          But, will you?



                     NICHOLAS

          Are you still on mediction?



                     CONRAD

               (taken aback)

          Why would you say that?



The waitress arrives.



                     WAITRESS

          Ready to order, gentlemen?



                     NICHOLAS

               (ignores, to Conrad)

          I didn't mean it like it sounded...



                     CONRAD

          I'm not on anything anymore.  I'm not

          even seeing a shrink.  I'm happy.

               (notices waitress,

                turning to her)

          Do you mind... ?!



The waitress gives him a look, leaves.



                     CONRAD

               (to Nicholas)

          I thought you'd like this.  Best

          thing I ever did.  If you don't want

          to do it, DON'T...



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll call them, okay?



                     CONRAD

          It doesn't matter...



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm going to call.



                     CONRAD

          Do it for YOU.



                     NICHOLAS

          Okay, okay... okay?

               (pause, studies card)

          I just... you know I hate surprises.



                     CONRAD

          I know...



Conrad CLINKS his fork against a glass, motioning...

Behind Nicholas, WAITERS, WAITRESSES and BUS-BOYS, lying in

wait, now come to SING "HAPPY BIRTHDAY."



Conrad stands, loving it.  Nicholas forces a fake smile.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT



The Bentley cruises hilly streets, ESTATES on all sides.



INT.  NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- NIGHT



Nicholas is on his CELLULAR PHONE.  CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS.



                     FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)

               (from cellular)

          ... seen the profitability report.

          No one's happy with the numbers.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into cellular)

          Imagine how much MORE unhappy I am.



                     FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)

          You'll deal with Alan?



                     NICHOLAS

          Correct.



                     FEMALE VOICE (v.o.)

          Okay, Nicholas.  Sleep well.



                     NICHOLAS

          I plan to.



He increases VOLUME on the CLASSICAL MUSIC, makes a turn.



He looks out his window, watching the street roll past...



FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY



SILENT, HOME MOVIE-ISH IMAGES as before: YOUNG NICHOLAS, 10,

peers out from a LIMOUSINE, watching his neighborhood

pass... PERIOD FASHIONS, PERIOD CARS and HOUSES...



BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY



Nicholas faces front.  The Bentley comes to the formidable

FRONT GATE of the mansion.  The gate begins to slide open.



Nicholas stares ahead, expressionless.



FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY



The LIMOUSINE pulls up the ungated driveway.  Young Nicholas

emerges, carrying books, waving goodbye to the CHAUFFEUR.



Young Nicholas runs past rose bushes, heading to the house,

but slows, looking up...



High up, Nicholas' FATHER, in a robe, stands on a balcony

railing, looking to hte sky.  He's weary, lowers his gaze...



Young Nicholas is puzzled, gives a tentative wave.



Father just stares, eyes dead, expression blank.



BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY



Nicholas looks down, puts the car in gear and drives...



THRU THE WINDSHIELD: the Bentley's headlights sweep the

stately Van Orton house.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- NIGHT



Nicholas exits the garage, walks up the garden path.  Ahead,

Ilsa's leaving through the kitchen door of the house,

heading across the yard to the GUEST HOUSE.



                     ILSA

          Dinner's in the oven.



                     NICHOLAS

          Thank you.  Goodnight.



At the rear door, Nicholas stops himself.



                     NICHOLAS

          Oh, I saw Conrad today.



Ilsa stops, looking back.  They're far from each other.



                     ILSA

          You did?  How is he?



                     NICHOLAS

          Okay.  I think he's into some sort of

          new personal improvement cult.



                     ILSA

               (nods, at a loss)

          Well... send my love, if you see him

          again.



Nicholas nods.  Ilsa leaves.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT



Nicholas uses mitts to remove a dinner plate from the oven,

sets it on a waiting tray: huge cheeseburger and hand-cut

french fries, perfectly presented.



Nicholas picks up a CUPCAKE with a B-day candle in it.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT



Nose-bleed-high ceilings.  Cavernous fireplace.  THREE TVs

in the ENTERTAINMENT WALL, the largest showing CNN.

Nicholas is seated in a chair facing his meal, pouring a

glass of champagne.



He toasts to no one, takes a sip.  The PHONE RINGS.

Nicholas looks to it, hesitates.  He hits SPEAKERPHONE.



                     NICHOLAS

               (to speakerphone)

          Elizabeth.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

               (from speakerphone)

          Happy Birthday, Nick.



                     NICHOLAS

               (looks at watch)

          Eleven forty.  You almost didn't make

          it this year.



Nicholas uses a REMOTE to MUTE BERNARD SHAW on the TV.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          Did you have a great birthday?



                     NICHOLAS

          Does Rose Kennedy have a black dress?

          You know my parties.  I went not

          once, but twice through the

          spanking-machine.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          I can only imagine.  How are you?



                     NICHOLAS

          Connie asked me the same thing today.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          Connie, really?  I always liked him.



                     NICHOLAS

          Anyway...



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          I just thought this... might be

          difficult for you.



                     NICHOLAS

          Just another birthday.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          I meant because of your father.



                     NICHOLAS

          That's right.  He was forty, wasn't

          he?  Hadn't thought about it, to tell

          you the truth, thanks for the

          reminder.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          Why do I call you... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          I honestly don't know.  Listen, give

          my best to Doctor Mel and Rachel....



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          Sue has a little brother on the way.

          We just did the ultrasound.



                     NICHOLAS

          No kidding?  An official nuclear

          family.  You must be pleased.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          We are.  We couldn't be happier.



Nicholas smiles thinly, bored, waiting for more.



                     NICHOLAS

          Well, so... thanks for calling.  I've

          got some work here...



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          I should let you go.



                     NICHOLAS

          Take care of yourself.



                     ELIZABETH (v.o.)

          You too, Nicholas.  I mean that, I

          really do.



                     NICHOLAS

          Um-hm.  Good luck.  Bye.



He PUSHES OFF the PHONE in the middle of her "goodbye."  He

uses the t.v. remote to give BERNARD SHAW back his VOICE.



Nicholas eats, watching the news.  He takes out the business

card Conrad gave him, looks at it, puts it on the table.



The card: "Consumer Recreation Services."



Nicholas sits back, chewing.  He stares at the ceiling.



FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY



SILENT IMAGES: Nicholas' FATHER stands on the high balcony,

as before.  He looks skyward one last time, then LAUNCHES

INTO SPACE... falling in EXTREME SLOW MOTION...



A head-first dive...



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  OFFICE BUILDING, 10TH FLOOR -- DAY



"DING," elevator doors open.  Nicholas and TWO EXECUTIVES

are talking.  As PEOPLE get on, the two executives get off.



                     EXECUTIVE 1

          We're getting off here.



Nicholas follows.  He and the executives huddle nearby.



                     NICHOLAS

               (voice low)

          So, we understand each other?



                     EXECUTIVE 2

          We do.



                     NICHOLAS

          Make it work on paper, and you can

          count on my full support.



                     EXECUTIVE 1

          Right-o.  We'll talk.  Soon.



They shake.  The executives walk away.  Nicholas returns to

elevator, pushes the button, waiting.  He turns, noticing...



A massive WALL OF TRANSLUCENT GLASS marks the office of

"C.R.S."  Modern.  Activity beyond it.



Nicholas finds this disconcerting.  He takes out his wallet,

digging up the C.R.S. business card, studying it... looking

again to the glass facade to double check.



He looks at his Rolex.



ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS DOORS



Nicholas enters.  A female RECEPTIONIST speaks into a

HEADSET/PHONE.  EMPLOYEES mill about.  UTILITY MEN sort

crawlspace wiring.



                     NICHOLAS

               (to receptionist,

                shows "C.R.S." card)

          Is this Consumer Recreation

          Services... ?



The reecptionist takes the card.  In the b.g., JIM FEINGOLD

pays a DELIVERY GUY for CHINESE FOOD.



                     RECEPTIONIST

               (into PHONE)

          You shouldn't feel this reflects

          negatively upon yourself.

               (to Nicholas)

          Just a moment.

               (back into phone)

          We hope we haven't caused you any

          inconvenience.  Thank you for

          considering C.R.S.



She studies the card, hangs up and motions to Feingold, a

bald, amiable engineer-type who passes with his food bag.



                     RECEPTIONIST

          Mister Feingold... could you assist

          this gentleman?



Feingold spins on his heels, looking, walking over with his

hand out.  Nicholas shakes.



                     FEINGOLD

          Jim Feingold, V.P., E.D.A.

          Engineering and Data Analysis.



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm not quite sure how this works.

          My brother...



                     FEINGOLD

          Oh, here we go...



Feingold takes the card the receptionist offers, examines

it, turns it over: finds FOUR NUMBERS on the back.



                     FEINGOLD

               (of the numbers)

          Excellent.  Let's get started.



Nicholas picks up his briefcase to follow Feingold.



INT.  C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY



Big operation.  Feingold leads past partitioned cubicles

that seem to go on forever.  C.R.S. WORKERS abound.

TELEPHONE CO. WORKMEN operate on the phones.



                     FEINGOLD

          Sorry about about all the hullabaloo.

          We're still moving.  Stick with me...

          I've got an office around here

          somewhere.



Feingold reaches open BOXES, begins collecting pages from

each, loading up on all sorts of forms.  he holds out his

leaking, greasy food bag to Nicholas.



                     FEINGOLD

          Mind holding this... ?



Nicholas reluctantly takes it, keeping it at arms length.



INT.  FEINGOLD'S OFFICE -- DAY



Feingold types at his computer.  Nicholas stands, looking

through the pile of forms on a clipboard.



                     FEINGOLD

               (TYPES in keyboard)

          V-A-N... O-R-T-O-N...

               (studies screen)

          A gift from Conrad Van Orton.

          Interesting...



                     NICHOLAS

          What is?



Feingold picks up his Chinese food, eats using chop-sticks.

The BOX features a grinning CARTOON PANDA mascot,



                     FEINGOLD

               (still studying screen)

          Your brother was a client with our

          London branch.  We do a sort of

          informal scoring.  His numbers were

          outstanding.

               (holds up box)

          Sure you're not hungry at all... ?

          Tung Hoy, best in Chinatown...



                     NICHOLAS

          No, thank you.



                     FEINGOLD

               (eating, mouth full)

          You need to fill out those forms.

          Application, psych-tests: M.M.P.I.

          and T.A.T.  For the financial

          questionnaire, don't answer anything

          you don't feel like.  We'll run a

          T.R.W....



Nicholas looks through the densely written forms.



                     NICHOLAS

               (reading FORM)

          "I sometimes hurt small animals.

          True or False?"  "I feel guilty when

          I masturbate..."



Nocholas looks up, skeptical.  Feingold shrugs, embarrassed.



                     FEINGOLD

          I don't write the questions.  I just

          review them.



                     NICHOLAS

          What's all this for?



                     FEINGOLD

          We want a sense of your overall

          capabilities, limitations, turn-ons,

          turn-offs...



                     NICHOLAS

          No, I mean, what is it FOR?  What

          are you selling?



                     FEINGOLD

          Oh... it's a game.



                     NICHOLAS

          A game?



                     FEINGOLD

          Tailored specifically to each

          participant.  Think of it as a great

          vacation, except you don't go to it,

          it comes to you.



                     NICHOLAS

          What kind of vacation?



                     FEINGOLD

          It's different every time.



                     NICHOLAS

               (patience waning)

          Humor me with specifics.



                     FEINGOLD

          We provide whatever's lacking.



                     NICHOLAS

          And if nothing's lacking?



                     FEINGOLD

          May I make two suggestions... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          Do you really expect me to

          participate without knowing a single

          thing?



                     FEINGOLD

          First, admit to yourself that it

          sounds intriguing.  Second, you don't

          have to decide today.  Take the silly

          tests, fill out the forms.  One day,

          the game begins.  You either love it

          or hate it.  Decide then.  We're like

          an experimental Book-of-the-Month-

          Club; drop out at any time with no

          further obligation.

               (smiles)

          That was my sales pitch.



Nicholas thumbs thru the forms one last time...



                     NICHOLAS

          How long will these take?



                     FEINGOLD

          An hour for those... maybe another

          for the physical.



                     NICHOLAS

          Physical?



                     FEINGOLD

          Cursory examination.  Turn-your-head-

          and-cough sort of thing.  You'll be

          out of here in no time.



Feingold takes out a ballpoint pen, clicks it and offers it

to Nicholas.  Nicholas takes it.



On the pen, in tiny letters: the C.R.S. LOGO.



                                              CUT TO:



TESTING MONTAGE -- VARIOUS C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY



- Nicholas fills out an APPLICATION of endless questions.



- A #2 pencil fills in circles on a long M.M.P.I. form.

CLOSE ON: "I often feel someone is following me.

True/False."  "I hate vegetables.  True/False."  "Vegetables

hate me.  True/False."



- WHITE ROOM.  A stone-faced PSYCHOLOGIST holds up CARDS.

Nicholas gives his unenthusiastic interpretation into a TAPE

RECORDER, checks his Rolex.



One CARD shows a large ant in an apron feeding a TV dinner

to a human child.  That card is replaced by another of a man

slipping head over heels on a banana peel.



- Nicholas wears HEADPHONES, facing a TECHNICIAN, raising a

finger on his left fist or right fist for each low BEEP.

Nicholas sighs, can't believe he's doing this.



INT.  C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- MONTAGE CONTINUES



Electronic MONITORS and PRINTERS record Nicholas' EEG and

EKG.  He's on an exam table, wearing a paper gown, covered

in SENSORS and WIRES, talking on a C.R.S. telephone.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into phone)

          ... cancel.  Push Cooper back to

          Wednesday afternoon.



A TECHNICIAN studies readouts.  A NURSE takes BLOOD PRESSURE.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          Mister Sutherland called about

          Baer/Grant Publishing.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into phone)

          Tomorrow.  Hold on...

               (to NURSE)

          How much longer?



                     NURSE

          Almost done.



                     NICHOLAS

          I heard that two hours ago.



The nurse smiles, pumping up the blood-pressure cuff.

Nicholas returns to the phone.



- DARK ROOM.  Images FLASH on a screen: SHAPES, CURSE WORDS,

PICTURES of U.S. PRESIDENTS, INSECTS...



In flickering light, Nicholas, still in his gown, watches

with THREE BUTTONS before him, pushing one from time to

time.  Frustrated, he looks around.  He stands and turns...



Directly into the projector's bright BEAM OF LIGHT.



                     NICHOLAS

          Hello... ?  Anyone there?

               (squints, holds up hand)

          Hello?!



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- DAY



Nicholas dresses, alone, pulling up his pants.  He notices

above: a MIRRORED DOME in the corner, obviously a camera.



Nicholas pulls on his jacket as Feingold arrives.



                     FEINGOLD

          Sorry to keep you waiting.



                     NICHOLAS

          Don't worry.  It's been terrific

          spending the entire day with your

          "crack team".



                     FEINGOLD

          It's all down to this...



Feingold holds out a CLIPBOARD with PAPERWORK in it.

Nicholas takes it, studies it, wary.



                     FEINGOLD

          An insurance company requirement.  It

          states that you are aware "the game"

          exists and that you are a willing

          participant in said game, so on and

          so forth.



Nicholas flips a page and Feingold leans over, pointing.



                     FEINGOLD

               (of the paperwork)

          One guarantee.  Payment's entirely at

          your brother's discretion and, as a

          gift, dependent on your satisfaction.



                     NICHOLAS

               (still reading)

          You mean, I don't like it, he doesn't

          pay?



                     FEINGOLD

          It's never happened.  We've never had

          an unsatisfied customer.



                     NICHOLAS

          You mean, dissatisfied.



                     FEINGOLD

               (glances at form)

          That's right -- you're a left-brain

          word fetishist.



Nicholas uses the C.R.S. pen to sign.  Feingold turns pages.



                     FEINGOLD

          Initials... initials, and...

               (another page)

          Sign here.



Nicholas is about to sign when Feingold grabs his wrist...



                     FEINGOLD

          In blood.

               (laughs)

          Just kidding.



Nicholas signs.  Feingold tears out a few PINK TINTED COPIES

and hands them to Nicholas, kind of in a hurry now.



                     FEINGOLD

          Your copies, thank you.  Keep the

          pen.  We'll let you know.



Feingold exits, gives a thumbs-up and a WINK, shuts the

door.  Nicholas is a bit bewildered.  He continues dressing.



                     NICHOLAS

               (muttering to self)

          ... grown man just winked at me.



INT.  ATHLETIC CLUB, RACQUETBALL COURT -- NIGHT



WHAM! -- a blue racquetball BALL SLAMS a wall...



THRU A WINDOW: Nicholas plays, alone, sawtting violently at

the ball.  We HEAR a PHONE CONVERSATION in VOICE OVER:



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          What about Monday or Tuesday?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          Bad for me.



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          How 'bout tonight?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          Unfortunately I'm working all

          evening.  Wednesday's the only

          possibility right now...



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          Okay.



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          Dinner?



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          Fine.  I get to pick the restaurant.



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          By the way, I went to C.R.S...



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          Really?  What'd you think?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          They seemed disorganized.



Nicholas finishes playing, exits.  The ball keeps bouncing.



                     CONRAD (v.o.)

          Well, the office is new.  When I did

          it in London, they'd been around

          awhile.  You gonna do this?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          Haven't decided yet.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  ATHLETIC CLUB, LOCKER ROOM -- NIGHT



Carpeted floors and mahogany lockers.  Nicholas sits at his

locker, wet, in a monogrammed robe, toweling his hair.

VOICES can be HEARD O.S.: BUSINESSMAN 1 and BUSINESSMAN 2.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)

          ... getting in on the ground floor of

          the next Disneyland.



                     BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)

          C.R.S. will not go public.  They're

          family owned.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)

          Stranger things have happened.



                     BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)

          No, they haven't, actually.



Nicholas leans to look around a locker.  Businessman 1 and 2

dress, two fat-cats.  Nicholas leans back, still listening.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.)

          They just opened here.



                     BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.)

          The game in San Francisco?  You see,

          they're doing fine without any of us.



INT.  ATHLETIC CLUB, LOUNGE/BAR -- NIGHT



Nicholas enters, looking around, spotting Businessman 1 and

2 across the room.  He gets the BARTENDER'S attention,

motioning to the businessmen.



                     NICHOLAS

          New members?



                     BARTENDER

          I believe so, sir.



                     NICHOLAS

          This round's on me.



Nicholas moves casually toward the men...



INT.  ATHLETIC CLUB, BAR/LOUNGE -- TIME CUT



LATER.  Another round arrives at the table where Nicholas

and Businessman 1 and 2 chat.  The businessmen smoke cigars.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1

          ... last time I played Pebble, I

          swore I'd never pick up a club again.



                     NICHOLAS

          Speaking of games... I couldn't help

          but overhear you talking about C.R.S.



Businessman 1 and 2 share a furtive glance.  Nicholas

discretely waves cigar smoke out of his face.



                     NICHOLAS

          I only mention it because I took the

          test this afternoon, down on

          Montgomery Street.



                     BUSINESSMAN 2

          Did you?  Kudos.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1

          So, yours hasn't started?



                     NICHOLAS

          Not yet.  I was hoping you could tell

          me... uh...

               (almost embarrassed)

          What is it?



Businessman 1 and 2 smile.  Shared enlightenment.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1

               (to Businessman 2,

                knowingly)

          Ahh, what is it?



                     BUSINESSMAN 2

          The eternal question.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1

               (to Nicholas)

          I envy you.  I wish I could go back

          and do it for the first time all over

          again...



He raises his glass.  They toast.



                     BUSINESSMAN 1

          Here's to... new experiences.

               (gulps drink)

          If you'll excuse me, I've got to be

          going.  'Night, Jon... Nicholas.



He leaves.  Nicholas focuses on Businessman 2.



                     NICHOLAS

          Did you play recently?



                     BUSINESSMAN 2

          Hm?  No, about a year ago.  I was

          working out of Los Angeles.



                     NICHOLAS

               (nodding)

          I've heard good things about their

          London branch.

               (leans in)

          You have to admit, it sounds like

          some fantasy, role-playing nonsense.



                     BUSINESSMAN 2

          You want to know what it is?  What

          it's all about?

               (off Nicholas' nod)

          John.  Chapter nine.  Verse

          twenty-five.



                     NICHOLAS

          I, uh... haven't been to Sunday

          school in years...



                     BUSINESSMAN 2

          "Whereas once I was blind, now I can

          see."

               (rises)

          Night, Nick.  Best of luck.



Businessman 2 puffs his cigar, walks away.  Nicholas watches

him go, then pauses, puzzled, mouthing the words to himself.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  LAW FIRM, CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY



A table of unhappy LAWYERS.  Nicholas goes thru a thick

CONTRACT with a red pen, CIRCLING, CROSSING-OUT and

SCRAWLING QUESTION MARKS ON paragraphs that displease him.



SUTHERLAND, trust personified, in his late 50's, stands

behind Nicholas, imperturbable.



                     NICHOLAS

               (still scrawling)

          As far as I'm concerned...

               (reading, x-ing out)

          ... if the Baer/Grant meeting does

          not take place tommorow, it might

          as well never take place at all.



Nicholas slides the contract to the center of the table.



                     SUTHERLAND

          When Mr. Van Orton boards his plane

          in the morrow, he will have every

          contract, side agreement and

          addendum, the complete closing

          package, flawlessly revised.



INSTANT UPROAR as the contract is grabbed up.  All the

lawyers talk at once, fearful, arguing, protesting.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Ladies and gentlemen...

               (as they quiet)

          This is why you're paid twice what

          you deserve.  So you will miss

          another opera you would've fallen

          asleep during anyway...



During this, Nicholas' CELLULAR PHONE is HEARD RINGING.

Nicholas takes it out, irritated.



                     SUTHERLAND

          The meeting has been moved forward.

          It affords you the opportunity to

          show our client how well you will

          rise to his exhilarating challenge.



QUIET COMMOTION resumes as Nicholas takes his cellular phone

to a corner, answering impatiently:



                     NICHOLAS

               (into cellular)

          Yes?



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

               (from cellular)

          Nicholas van Orton?



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes, who is this?



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

          This is Cynthia calling from C.R.S...



                     NICHOLAS

          How did you get this number?



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

          We've finished processing your

          application...



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm in a meeting...



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

          ... I'm afraid your application was

          rejected.



                     NICHOLAS

               (pause)

          Pardon me?



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

          You shouldn't feel this reflects

          negatively upon yourself.  We hope we

          haven't caused you any

          inconvenience...



                     NICHOLAS

          This is absurd...



                     WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.)

          Thank you for thinking of C.R.S.



CLICK -- she's hung up.  Nicholas folds the phone and

pockets it, his mind suddenly far away from the meeting

behind him.  Sutherland steps close, concerned, quiet...



                     SUTHERLAND

          Anything wrong... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          Nothing.  Nothing at all.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  FINANCIAL DISTRICT STREETS -- NIGHT



Nicholas guides the Bentley down streets lined with

skyscrapers, staring ahead.  A previous PHONE CONVERSATION

is HEARD in V.O., a PHONE RINGING... RINGING... RINGING...



                     SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)

          Would you like voice-mail?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          I suppose.



                     SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)

          I'll connect you.  Thank you for

          calling the Four Seasons.



EXT.  NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT



The Bentley heads towards home.  The V.O. PHONE CONVERSATION

CONTINUES uninterrupted, CLICKING, then...



                     CONRAD'S VOICE (v.o.)

               (voice-mail recording)

          This is Conrad.  Leave a message.



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

               (waits till after BEEP)

          Connie, it's Nicholas.  Give me a

          ring when you get a chance...



INT.  BENTLEY -- NIGHT



The Bentley reaches the VAN ORTON GATES, which open slow.

V.O. CONVERSATION CONTINUES:



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          About your birthday gift.  Things are

          tight right now.  I'm just not sure

          whether it'll fit my schedule.

          Anyway, see you at dinner tomorrow.



The PHONE is HEARD DISCONNECTING.



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT



The Bentley's headlights sweep the front of the Van Orton

house.  There's something there, on the ground...



INSIDE THE BENTLEY



Nicholas stops the car, peering ahead, worried...



THRU THE WINDSHIELD: A BODY lies face down on the edge of

the driveway.



FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY



The BODY of Nicholas' FATHER, sprawled face-down, in nearly

the same place, head twisted, mouth bloody.



BACK TO SCENE



Nicholas gets slowly out of the Bentley, reluctant.



                     NICHOLAS

          Hello!  What are you doing there?

               (no reaction)

          Wonderful...



Nichoals CLAPS his hands.  The body doesn't stir.  Nicholas

look all directions, then approaches.



                     NICHOLAS

          Are you okay?



Nicholas nudges the body with his foot.  He crouches,

confused, turning the limp body.  It's a grotesque

HARLEQUIN, not unlike the clown from Nicholas' seventh

birthday, with a shiny face of painted wood.



Nicholas looks around for an explanation.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, FOYER -- NIGHT



The front door opens.  Nicholas enters with the Harlequin,

depositing it on a hallway BENCH.



A half-inch of RED RIBBON sticks out from the Harlequin's

lips.  Nicholas tugs the ribbon... pulling out a GOLD KEY

tied to the other end.



Three letters embossed on the key: "C.R.S."



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT



Nicholas sits with his evening's meal, examining the key.

CNN on TV.  He looks across the room to the couch where the

Harlequin is slumped staring back.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

               (from television)

          ... according to Nicholas Van Orton,

          millions of Americans will be

          affected by this legislation.



Nicholas hears this vaguely in the back of his mind, looks

to the TV.  BERNARD SHAW has moves on to the next story.



Nicholas goes to the Harlequin, opening its hinged mouth,

attempting to look inside.  He gets a knife from his tray,

uses it to probe the Harlequin's mouth, jabbing, prying.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          ... number of criminals behind bars

          growing by record numbers, with Van

          Orton pointing the finger at stiff,

          anti-crime regulations...



Nicholas looks up.  He heard that.  He walks toward the TV.

Bernard Shaw is reporting, nothing strange.



Nicholas waits.  Nothing.  He walks away...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          ... largest portion of population

          incarcerated.  These figures were

          given at a press conference called

          toady by Mr. Nicholas Van Orton.



Nicholas turns, disbelieving.  Bernard Shaw apparently looks

out FROM THE TELELVISION, perturbed...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          You going to spend the rest of the

          evening prying at that clown's mouth?



                     NICHOLAS

               (dumbfounded)

          I... I don't...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          It's frustrating for me if you don't

          even pretend to pay attention.



                     NICHOLAS

          What is this... ?



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          This is your game, Nicholas, and

          welcome to it.  I'm here to let you

          in on a few ground rules...



Bernard Shaw's FACE RIPPLES and GLITCHES occasionally,

revealing its true, computer-generated nature.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          You've received the first key and

          others will follow.  You never know

          where you'll find them, or when or

          how you'll need to use them, so keep

          your eyes open.



                     NICHOLAS

               (waves his hand)

          How do you... ?  You can see me?



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          I see you, I hear you.  Why don't we

          save the questions till...



                     NICHOLAS

          How does this work?



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          There's a tiny camera looking at you

          right now.



                     NICHOLAS

          That's impossible.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          You're right.  Impossible.  You're

          having a conversation with your

          television.



Nicholas touches the TV, feeling the seams.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          It's miniaturized.



Nicholas begins poking his butter knife between slots of the

television's speaker, stabbing, poking...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          Do you know how dangerous that is?



Nicholas pries at the plastic speaker cover.  It's not easy,

but he's determined, cracking the plastic...



                     ILSA (o.s.)

          Mister Van Orton... ?



The speaker cover breaks off with a SNAP! and Nicholas

spins, holding the broken piece.



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes... Ilsa, what is it?



ON T.V., Bernard Shaw grabs up pages, resumes...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          ... and in other news, auto workers

          vowed to remain on picket lines...



Ilsa's in the doorway, wondering.



                     ILSA

          Is everything alright?



                     NICHOLAS

          Fine.



                     ILSA

          I've finished for the evening.  Will

          you be needing anything else?



                     NICHOLAS

          No, thank you.  Goodnight.



                     ILSA

          Goodnight then.



She leaves.  Nicholas throws the piece of television away.

Bernard Shaw stops reading now that the coast is clear.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          Who was that?



                     NICHOLAS

          Never mind who that was.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          You're uncomfortable.  You want to

          know how a camera got into your home,

          don't you?



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes, I do.



ON TELEVISION: Bernard Shaw is REPLACED by a FISH-EYED IMAGE

of NICHOLAS' DEN.  It shows Nicholas from behind.



The P.O.V. is not from the TV.  Nicholas crosses the

room, keeps his eye on the TV as a guide...



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

               (from t.v., o.s.)

          ... cold... cold... warmer...

          warmer...



ON TELEVISION: Nicholas gets bigger as he gets closer to...



The Harlequin.  Nicholas leans, looks at the clown's eyes...



ON TELEVISION: Nicholas' face is huge, distorted.



Nicholas pries one of the Harlequin's glass eyes with his

knife, pulling it out and examining it.



ON TELEVISION: The Harlequin's P.O.V. turns to STATIC.

Bernard Shaw returns with a PHONE NUMBER SUPERIMPOSED.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          Write this number down.  It's a

          24-hour Consumer Recreation Services

          hotline, for emergencies only.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          But, don't call asking what the

          object of the game is; figuring that

          out is the object of the game.



Nicholas feels his pockets, finds the C.R.S. pen.  He comes

up with a VALET PARKING TICKET to scrawl the number on.



                     BERNARD SHAW (v.o.)

          Good luck and congratulations on

          choosing C.R.S.  We now return you to

          your regularly scheduled program...



STATIC and SNOW, then CNN's Bernard Shaw is back for real,

newscasting.  Nicholas reads the number he wrote.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT



Nicholas crouches at a coaxial CABLE LINE at the side of the

house.  He fingers a BOX with a miniature LOOP and RABBIT

EAR ANTENNA that's been spliced into the line.



He starts to unscrew it... then thinks twice.  He leaves it.



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT



Nicholas enters thru the back door.  He pauses, looking out

at the night.  He closes the door and locks it.  He PUNCHES

the ALARM CODE into a KEYPAD.



Nicholas takes his Bentley key chain from its hook, takes

out the gold, "C.R.S." key... adding it to the keychain.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT -- DAY



Nicholas enters the vast, busy terminal, briefcase in hand.

He walks with purpose, but is extra-aware of the world

around him.  He notices...



A MAN and WOMAN engaged in a SIGN LANGUAGE conversation.



A MAN reading a newspaper peers from behind the pages.



A JANITOR opens a door with a big KEY CHAIN full of keys.



A MAN on a payphone seems to be staring at Nicholas...



Nicholas turns his head to keep an eye on the man,

practically bumping into a grimy HOMELESS BUM...



                     HOMELESS BUM

          Help me out there?  Used to be an

          affluent fella, till some folks did

          this to me...



Nicholas moves away, leaving the homeless man behind.



                     HOMELESS BUM

          Don't ignore me.  I got screwed.



INT.  AIRPORT, RED CARPET LOUNGE -- DAY



Quiet MUSIC.  Rich people's lounge.  Nicholas sits with a

cup of coffee, considering magazines on a coffee table.  Two

seats down, a BUSINESSMAN coughs and rises, leaving his

newspaper on the empty seat between Nicholas and himself.



Nicholas glances down, curious when he sees...

A smiling-clown-face INFANT'S RATTLE on the seat beside,

sticking out from under the paper.



Nicholas catches only a glimpse of the exiting businessman.

Nicholas looks around, picks up the rattle.



He rattles it, studies it, rattles it in his ear.  He tries

to see thru it by holding it up to the light.  He doesn't

notice the MOTHER who enters with a baby, watching him.



                     MOTHER

          Excuse me...



Nicholas looks up, realizes, awkward, offering the rattle.

She takes it and exits.



There's a BESPECTACLED MAN watching Nicholas.



Nicholas notices, tries to ignore.



But, bespectacled man is really staring.



                     NICHOLAS

               (sits forward, fed up)

          May I help you... ?



Nicholas' tone has turned other heads.  Bespectacled man

seems embarrassed, shy, taps his chest.



                     NICHOLAS

          What... ?  What is it?



Bespectacled man taps his chest again, points at Nicholas.



Nicholas looks down.  Inside his suit jacket -- a huge blue

INK STAIN across his shirt.  Nicholas stands, aghast, taking

out the offending pen.



It's the "C.R.S." pen, dripping ink.



INT.  AIRPORT, BATHROOM -- DAY



Running water.  Nicholas tries to clean his shirt, blotting

it ineffectually with wet paper towels.  he looks in the

mirror, crestfallen.  The stain's worse.



                     DEEP VOICE (o.s.)

          Hey, buddy... you still out there?



Nicholas looks around.  He's alone, except for a MAN in a

TOILET STALL.  All we see are the man's brown shoes.



                     DEEP VOICE (o.s.)

               (from toilet stall)

          I'm in a little bit of trouble...



The man's hairy hand motions from below the stall.  Nicholas

backs away, nervous, grabs his briefcase.



                     DEEP VOICE (o.s.)

          I need paper.  There's none in here.

          Come on, help a guy out...



Nicholas considers, then hurries to exit.



                     DEEP VOICE (o.s.)

          Hello?!  Anybody?  Hello?



INT.  AIRPORT, METAL DETECTORS -- DAY



Nicholas' briefcase rides into the x-ray machine.



Nicholas drops his keys, cellular phone and Rolex in a tray.

He passes thru the metal detector.  A SECURITY GUARD brings

the tray to him.



                     SECURITY GUARD

          Nice watch.



Nicholas smiles tolerantly, collects his belongings.  He

waits at the x-ray conveyor belt, which is stopped.  A

FEMALE GUARD studies the x-ray monitor.



                     NICHOLAS

          Is there a problem?



The female guard looks up, turns the conveyor belt back on.

Nicholas' briefcase arrives.



Nicholas moves on, aggravated.  Ahead, Sutherland rises from

a seat along the concourse hallway, walking to meet him.



                     NICHOLAS

          I wasn't expecting you.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Wanted to wish you luck.  Not that

          you'll need it.



Sutherland offers the contract, points to Nicholas' shirt.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Attractive...



                     NICHOLAS

               (paging thru contract)

          Don't ask.



                     SUTHERLAND

          I checked it personally.



Nicholas nods, props his briefcase up on a window ledge,

opens it and drops the contract in.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  SEATTLE AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- DAY



Nicholas' jet touches down.



EXT.  SEATTLE AIRPORT, LOADING ZONE -- DAY



Nicholas follows a CHAUFFEUR.  The chauffeur opens a LIMO

door.  Several pressed SHIRTS hang waiting.



EXT.  BAER/GRANT BUILDING -- DAY



In the shadow of the Baer/Grant Publishing offices, the

limousine idles.  Downtown Seattle.



INT.  BAER/GRANT PUBLISHING, ALAN BAER'S OFFICE -- DAY



Meet ALAN BAER, elderly CEO, blue-blooded, pissed.



                     ALAN BAER

          All these years... the first time

          ever you step foot in these offices,

          it's to ask me to step down?



Nicholas stands by CHILDREN'S TEXT BOOK mock-ups.  "Math-

Magic."  "Wonder-Words."  They're "Little Baer Books."



                     NICHOLAS

          You promised you'd meet projections,

          Alan.  A dollar sixty per share you

          said.  So, I don't think this is so

          surprising a visit.



                     ALAN BAER

          Projections were far too optimistic.



                     NICHOLAS

          Admittedly...



                     ALAN BAER

          Our E.P.S. was one fifty last

          quarter.  We're up eight cents per

          share.



                     NICHOLAS

          But, the expectation was ten.  And,

          in this case, expectation is

          everything.



                     ALAN BAER

          Will you really hold me to it over

          pennies?



                     NICHOLAS

          My stock's falling.  Isn't yours?

          Those pennies are costing me

          millions.



                     ALAN BAER

          The stock will turn.



                     NICHOLAS

          It probably will.  In fact, I'd go so

          far as to say it almost certainly

          will, in time.  Why should I settle

          for that?



                     ALAN BAER

          Because it's fair.  Give me next

          quarter.  If you still feel this way,

          vote your shares...



                     NICHOLAS

          You're talking tomorrow.  Today is

          what counts.



                     ALAN BAER

          You intractable son-of-a-bitch.  If

          your father could see you now...



                     NICHOLAS

          What?



                     ALAN BAER

          Your father was a friend.  Goddamn

          it... I watched you grow up.  How do

          you end up treating me like this?



This swings Nicholas into a new mode: acutely-focused anger.



                     NICHOLAS

          It is so very inappropriate for you

          to mention my father.  Or, did you

          think this, between us, was

          friendship?  Just because you went

          fishing with my father, I should sit

          on my hands while you throw my money

          away?



                     ALAN BAER

          Now, look...



                     NICHOLAS

               (holds up his hand)

          I'll be done in a minute.  You

          misspoke before.  You're not

          "stepping down."  I'm taking you out

          at the knees.  The whole point is to

          prove that you're not deciding

          anything anymore.  I'm firing you.

          Action's taken.  Confidence restored.

          Stock goes up.  I sell my shares.



                     ALAN BAER

          There is no Baer/Grant Publishing

          without Alan Baer.



                     NICHOLAS

          Remember Daniel Grant?  Do they

          say, "without Daniel Grant, there is

          no Baer/Grant Publishing?"  He's gone

          sailing, Alan.  He's out there

          enjoying his golden years, probably

          wondering where you are.



At Alan's desk, Nicholas clears a space for his briefcase.



                     NICHOLAS

          You made a promise.  You failed.  The

          severance I'm offering is more than

          equitable.  Valid tonight only.

               (looks at watch)

          For one hour.



Nicholas takes a pen from a holder, lays it on the blotter.



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll step outside, so you'll have the

          privacy you need to read and sign it.



He tries to unlatch his briefcase clasp.  It's stuck.



                     ALAN BAER

          I could fight you on this.



                     NICHOLAS

          You could.  But, if I leave without

          your signature, this agreement begins

          to disintegrate; benefits shrink,

          options narrow, compensations

          shrivel.



Nicholas works on the briefcase the whole time, distraction

growing as it becomes a true struggle.



                     NICHOLAS

          So... it is in your best interest...

          to sign presently.



Nicholas sits, pulling the latch, trying to see what's

jammed.  It refuses to open.  Nicholas stares at it,

frustrated, then... an odd realization...



He takes his keys out, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it...



It doesn't fit.  It was never meant for this lock.  Alan

Baer watches, wondering.



Forgetting himself, Nicholas grabs up the briefcase,

pulling, grunting, desperate, striking it with his palm.



Nicholas straightens, immediately composed.



                     NICHOLAS

          Well... as luck would have it, you've

          just gotten a reprieve,  I'm sure

          you'll come around to my way of

          thinking.

               (picks up briefcase)

          I have a plane to catch.  My

          attorneys will contact you.



Nicholas exits.  Alan Baer doesn't know quite what to think.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  SEATTLE AIRPORT TERMINAL -- DAY



On the sidewalk, Nicholas bashes his briefcase over and over

again against a fire hydrant.



EXT.  SAN FRANCISCO AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- SUNSET



Nicholas' jet touches down.



INT.  CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT



Nicholas sits staring.  His battered briefcase is near.  He

checks his watch, impatient, flags down a WAITER...



                     NICHOLAS

          Is there a message up front from a

          Conrad Van Orton?



The waiter goes.  Nicholas drums his fingers.  He slides out

of the booth, rising. when a WAITRESS knocks into him with a

tray.  Wine spills.  Glasses crash.



                     WAITRESS

          Oh, excuse me...



Nicholas looks down at his wine-stained front.  The waitress

is CHRISTINE, same waitress as the other night.  She tries

to clean him up with a napkin.



                     CHRISTINE

          I'm so sorry.



                     NICHOLAS

          Please, don't do that...



Nicholas snatches the napkin from her, wiping his suit.



                     CHRISTINE

          I apologize, sir, I'm having a

          bad day...



                     NICHOLAS

          A bad month.  You did the exact same

          thing to me last week.



Christine's taken aback.



                     NICHOLAS

          Don't help me, just get more napkins.

          And soda water.



                     CHRISTINE

               (gets more napkins)

          It was an accident.



                     NICHOLAS

          Terrific.  I now have a hundred

          dollar dry cleaning bill.



                     CHRISTINE

          I said I was sorry...



Nicholas turns his back on her, throwing wet napkins,

picking up clean ones, still patting at the stain.



                     CHRISTINE

               (stews)

          Asshole.



Nicholas turns, angry.  The MAITRE D' arrives, shocked.



                     MAITRE D'

          Christine!   Mister Van Orton is a

          valued customer...



                     CHRISTINE

          Then, you kiss his ass.



She's leaving, but the maitre d' pulls her aside.



                     MAITRE D'

          You don't talk to me like that.



                     CHRISTINE

               (quiet, evenly)

          I apologized, I offered to help.



                     MAITRE D'

          Clean out your locker.



                     CHRISTINE

          Fine, Dennis.  Soon as I get my money

          for this week.



                     MAITRE D'

          I'll be right with you.



Christine heads to the back.  The maitre d' motions for BUS

BOYS to clean, smoothly guiding Nicholas to a new table...



                     MAITRE D'

          I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Van Orton.

          If you're not too uncomfortable, will

          this table suit you for a

          complimentary meal... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes.  Fine.



                     MAITRE D'

          I'll fetch your waiter.



Nicholas sits, keeps wiping his shirt as the maitre d'

hurries away.  After a moment, a uniformed WAITER moves

past, leaves a CHECK...



                     WAITER

          Check, sir.



Nicholas picks up the check, indignant.



                     NICHOLAS

          Excuse me...



But, the waiter is long gone.  Nicholas shakes his head,

then the check catches his eye... "DON'T LET HER GET AWAY"

scrawled across it.



Nicholas turns to look.  The waiter who brought the check

crosses the room, goes out the front door.



Nicholas rises, following...



EXT.  CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT



Nicholas comes out the front, sees: the waiter has crossed

the street, still moving...



The waiter gets in a CAR as the car pulls quickly away.



Nicholas is baffled, looks at the check, heads back inside.



EXT.  ALLEY, BEHIND RESTAURANT -- NIGHT



Christine exits the kitchen door, purse over her shoulder.



                     CHRISTINE

               (back to doorway)

          Yeah... ?  Well, fuck you and your

          vichyssoise, prick.



She heads down this dark alley.  After a moment, Nicholas

follows, hurrying to catch up, briefcase in hand.



                     NICHOLAS

          Pardon me... Miss... ?



                     CHRISTINE

          Oh, no... you.



Christine picks up the pace.



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm not sure how this works.  Do you

          have something for me... ?  I got

          this note...



                     CHRISTINE

          What are you babbling about, psycho?



                     NICHOLAS

          I want to know what's going on.  Are

          you part of this?



                     CHRISTINE

          What's going on?  I'm going on my

          second job this month, and now I'm

          going on unemployment.



She keeps walking.  Nicholas stops, ponders.  He follows.

They're nearing the end of the alley.



                     NICHOLAS

          Excuse me, I need to explain...



                     CHRISTINE

          Don't explain.  Fuck off.  Goodbye.



Nicholas steps in a deep, splattering pot-hole, stumbles,

pants soaked, stopping, fed up.



                     NICHOLAS

          Son of a bitch!



Christine rounds the corner, heading down the street.

Nicholas reaches the sidewalk, watches her go.



                     NICHOLAS

               (shouts after)

          I'm trying to... ask you...

               (giving up)

          I'm apologizing...



He heads back the way he came.  A strangled CRY is HEARD.

Nearby, a HEAVY MAN falls to his knees, then falls face

forward to the concrete.  Nicholas looks around, alone...



                     NICHOLAS

               (to Heavy Man)

          Are... are you okay?!



DOWN THE SIDEWALK, Christine slows, looks back...



Nicholas bends, trying to see the man's face, seems afraid

to actually touch him.



                     NICHOLAS

          Jesus... this can't be...



Nicholas looks up to see Christine running back.



                     CHRISTINE

          What's with him?



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't know... he fell.



Christine kneels, turns Heavy Man on his side and feels for

a pulse.  Heavy Man convulses.



                     CHRISTINE

          Do you know what to do?



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't think he's breathing.



Christine clears Heavy Man's airway, pulling saliva and

mucus from his mouth with two fingers.



                     NICHOLAS

          Oh, God... !



                     CHRISTINE

          Don't just stand there, get help!



                     NICHOLAS

               (taking out his CELLULAR)

          This can't be real...



                     CHRISTINE

          He's pissing his pants.  Is that real

          enough for you?  Call 911!



                     NICHOLAS

          Alright... okay...



                     CHRISTINE

          He's turning blue!



Nicholas is starting to believe, dialing, circling as

Christine gives C.P.R.  He listens to his phone -- STATIC.



                     NICHOLAS

          Damn...



He backpedals in the street, cellular to his ear, trying to

catch a signal, tilst his head.  STATIC.  A HORN BLARES -- a

CAR barely misses Nicholas, DRIVER cursing.



Nicholas anxiously punches buttons.  He spots a SQUAD CAR

and runs toward it...



                     NICHOLAS

          Police!



SAME STREET -- TIME CUT...



SIREN BLASTING, an AMBULANCE is parked.  PARAMEDICS pull a

stretcher, helped by TWO COPS, hurrying to the prone Heavy

Man.  A crowd is gathered.



Nicholas and Christine watch the paramedics work.  COP ONE

hands Nicholas a clipboard, everything hurried, overlapped:



                     COP ONE

          You have to fill these out.



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't know this man.



Christine takes the clipboard.



                     CHRISTINE

               (to cop, of clipboard)

          What do you need... ?



Paramedics hoist heavy Man on a stretcher and take him to

the ambulance.  Cop Two goes to help them lift.



                     NICHOLAS

               (to Christine)

          I can't get involved in this.



Christine moves to climb into the ambulance.



                     COP TWO

               (to Nicholas)

          We'll have to detain you.



                     COP ONE

          Report's got to be filled out.  Ride

          with your wife.  We'll meet at the

          hospital.



                     PARAMEDIC

               (shouting to cop)

          We're moving!



Cop One leads Nicholas to the ambulance.



                     NICHOLAS

          She's not my wife.



                     COP ONE

          It's a few blocks.  Help me out, huh,

          pal?



Nicholas reluctantly gets in.



EXT.  CITY STREETS -- NIGHT



Busy streets.  The ambulance rockets on...



INT.  AMBULANCE -- NIGHT



SIREN WAILING.  Paramedic works.  Christine fills out forms.

Nicholas tries to see where they're going, frustrated.



                     NICHOLAS

          This is nuts.



                     CHRISTINE

               (without looking up)

          What is your problem?



                     NICHOLAS

               (digging in his pocket)

          Ten minutes ago, I'm looking forward

          to a quiet dinner.  I get a note...



Nicholas slaps his CHECK on top of Christine's paperwork.



                     NICHOLAS

          Suddenly I'm in an ambulance.  Why am

          I in an ambulance?!



He looks out the window.  Christine studies the check:

"DON'T LET HER GET AWAY," finds it odd, looks to Nicholas.



                     NICHOLAS

               (wincing, to paramedic

                of Heavy Man)

          He's breathing, isn't he?  Is the

          siren entirely necessary?



INT.  UNDERGROUND PARKING ENTRANCE -- NIGHT



"Emergency Vehicles Only."  The ambulance races down a RAMP,

moving across this big underground garage, doing a u-turn...



Backs up toward a busy EMERGENCY ROOM ENTRANCE.  MEDICAL

PERSONNEL everywhere.  Other ambulances.  INJURED PEOPLE.

Our paramedics get out and unload Heavy Man.



Nicholas and Christine get out, disoriented.  Heavy Man's

rushed inside via automatic doors.  Christine hands off the

clipboard to Nicholas, following the stretcher...



                     CHRISTINE

          Let's talk to whoever can get this

          over with...



                     NICHOLAS

               (reading clipboard)

          Hold on...

               (of the clipboard)

          They want your driver's license

          number.



Christine returns to look, and suddenly ALL THE LIGHTS GO

OUT.  Nicholas and Christine look up.  In the surrounding

darkness, we HEAR EVERYONE FLEEING...



FOOTSTEPS SCATTER... then, SILENCE.



                     NICHOLAS

          You've got to be kidding.



                     CHRISTINE

          What... is... happening... ?



The only light is a BULB inside the ambulance.



                     NICHOLAS

               (disgust)

          I was trying to tell you... it's a

          game.



                     CHRISTINE

          A game?



                     NICHOLAS

               (tosses clipboard)

          It's run by a company... they play

          elaborate pranks.  Things like this.

          I'm really only now finding out

          myself.



                     CHRISTINE

          What are you talking about?



                     NICHOLAS

          The lights went out, one hundred

          people all ran away...



                     CHRISTINE

          You mean, the guy who turned blue and

          wet himself... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          I'm sorry, about this...



                     CHRISTINE

          You should be.



Christine climbs into the ambulance, searching.



                     CHRISTINE

          There's got to be a flashlight.



                     NICHOLAS

               (quietly)

          I don't understand why they're

          getting you involved.



IN THE AMBULANCE, she finds all drawers and cabinets EMPTY.



                     CHRISTINE

          This is so fucked.  You don't fuck

          with people like this.  I thought

          that guy was gonna die.  I gave him

          mouth to mouth!



She digs in her purse, finds a book of restaurant MATCHES.

She lights a match, climbing out.



                     CHRISTINE

          See you around.



                     NICHOLAS

          Where are you going?



                     CHRISTINE

          Home.



                     NICHOLAS

          How do you know that's the way?



She just keeps walking.



A distant "DING" is HEARD.  Far away, an ELEVATOR OPENS with

a light inside.  Christine stops.



Christine changes direction, heading for the elevator.

Nicholas hurries to follow.  The match burns out.  A moment,

then Christine strikes another, lighting the way, barely.

As they squeeze between parked cars, Christine searches...



                     CHRISTINE

          Where'd you all go?  Motherfucking

          frat boys.  You better hide.

               (to Nicholas)

          Is your life so pathetic that this is

          something you're willing to pay for?



                     NICHOLAS

          It was a gift... from my brother.



                     CHRISTINE

          How thoughtful.  The gift of

          inconvenience.



NIcholas stumbles.  A beer BOTTLE is HEAR SKITTERING away.



INT. ELEVATOR -- NIGHT



They reach the elevator.  Nicholas pushes a button.



                     NICHOLAS

          Ground floor.



He and Christine step back and wait, looking up.  And

wait... and wait, looking unhappily to each other.



Nicholas pushes all the buttons.  Nothing happens.

Christine opens the EMERGENCY PHONE door: NO PHONE.

Nicholas touches his finger to a KEY HOLE below the buttons.



He takes out keys, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it...

it fits.  He turns it.  DOORS CLOSE and the ELEVATOR MOVES.

Nicholas is pleased, sees Christine wondering.



                     NICHOLAS

               (of the key)

          Long story.

               (off her stare)

          I found this key in the mouth of a

          wooden Harlequin.



                     CHRISTINE

          Never mind.



The ELEVATOR LURCHES, DROPS, then HALTS.  LIGHTS OUT,

replaced by RED EMERGENCY LIGHT.  A MOTOR is HEARD DYING.



                     CHRISTINE

          I don't like that.

               (pushing buttons)

          We're stuck.



Nicholas takes out his phone, puts it to his ear.  STATIC.



                     NICHOLAS

               (pockets phone)

          No signal.



Christine pounds on the buttons and doors, frustrated.  She

tries to pry the doors open.  Can't.



                     CHRISTINE

          What's the going rate for the

          "trapped-in-elevator-adventure" these

          days?



Nicholas hits BUTTONS hard.  Christine studies the ceiling,

moving under the square seam of the TRAP DOOR, pointing.



                     NICHOLAS

          Don't even think about it.



                     CHRISTINE

          Why not?



                     NICHOLAS

          Read what it says: "Warning, do not

          attempt to open.  If elevator stops,

          use emergency... "



                     CHRISTINE

          If there was one.



                     NICHOLAS

          "... wait for help."  Wait for help.

          I'm not opening a door that

          specifically warns me not to.



                     CHRISTINE

          Are you suggesting we wait till

          someone finds us?



Nicholas considers this, looks around.



INT.  ELEVATOR SHAFT -- NIGHT



The trap door CREAKS open.  Nicholas looks up from the

elevator, standing on hand rails.  He gets down.



IN THE ELEVATOR



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll give you a boost.



                     CHRISTINE

          You first.



                     NICHOLAS

          This isn't an attempt to be gallant.

          If I don't lift you, how are you

          going to get there?



                     CHRISTINE

          You pull me up.



                     NICHOLAS

          It's much easier this way.  Come on,

          step up...



                     CHRISTINE

          No.



                     NICHOLAS

          Please...



                     CHRISTINE

          I'm not wearing underwear.  Okay?

          There, I said it.  Satisfied.



                     NICHOLAS

               (looks at her skirt)

          Oh.  FIne.



Nicholas starts climbing...



IN THE ELEVATOR SHAFT



Nicholas comes up, batting cobwebs, tentative.  He grips a

handful of grease, disgusted.  He climbs thru, catching his

jacket on a jutting screw, FABRIC RIPPPPPPPPING...



                     CHRISTINE (o.s.)

          Oops.



Nicholas stands in the shaft, pissed.  He looks for a place

to wipe his hand, wipes it on his jacket, looking up.



                     NICHOLAS

          There's a ladder here.



IN THE ELEVATOR



                     CHRISTINE

          My hero.  Let's go.



Nicholas offers his grease covered hand from above.



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't think so.



Nicholas withdraws that hand, offers the clean one.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  BUILDING LOBBY -- NIGHT



Elevator doors shift, forced from inside.  Nicholas climbs

out, then pulls Christine out behind him.  They're

head-to-toe filthy, clothing ruined.



                     NICHOLAS

          Damn.  My briefcase.



He looks back down the shaft.



                     CHRISTINE

          I'll wait.



                     NICHOLAS

               (resigned sigh)

          It's not like anyone could actually

          open it.



They walk, looking at the vast lobby and sky-lit ATRIUM.



                     NICHOLAS

          This is C.R.S.



                     CHRISTINE

          What's C.R.S.?



                     NICHOLAS

          Consumer Recreation Services.  It's

          their building.  They...



A BEEP is HEARD.  Nicholas looks above...

Sees a MOTION SENSOR with a green light blinking.



                     NICHOLAS

          Oh...



An ALARM SOUNDS; a loud RINGING BELL.  Nicholas backs away.



                     NICHOLAS

          Don't panic.  When security gets

          here, we simply explain what

          happened...



                     CHRISTINE

          They'll love that.



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes... well...



FOOTFALLS.  Nicholas turns to see Christine running away.



                     CHRISTINE

               (over her shoulder)

          Explain for both of us!



Nicholas looks around, unsure.  He follows...



EXT.  ALLEYWAY, BEHIND C.R.S. BUILDING -- NIGHT



Christine bursts thru "EMERGENCY EXIT" doors.  Nicholas

arrives.  He grips her arm and they walk, out of breath.



                     NICHOLAS

          Walk, slowly.  Don't draw attention.

          Out for a stroll...



TIRES SCREECH.  A SPOTLIGHT HITS them from behind.



                     ANGRY VOICE (o.s.)

          You!  Stay where you are!



It's a SECURITY CAR on the other side of a fence.



                     CHRISTINE

          Run!



They run, down the alley.



                     ANGRY VOICE

          Stop!



EXT.  NARROW ALLEYWAY -- NIGHT



SIRENS HEARD.  Christine and Nicholas sprint round a corner,

all out... thru puddles, glancing back.  Ahead, a SECURITY

CAR skids, starting for them.  Christine and Nicholas double

back.  She takes the lead.



Christine spots something, makes a chouse, moving

into a very NARROW ALLEY space.



                     NICHOLAS

          Where are you going?

               (looks in, worried)

          You can't fit there.



She's making fine progress regardless.



                     NICHOLAS

          I can't!



Nicholas sees the SECURITY CAR bearing down.  He must turn

sideways to fit in the narrow alley, shuffling after.



BEHIND, the car stops and SECURITY GUARD gets out, club in

hand.  In the car, a GERMAN SHEPHERD barks.



Security Guard tries to fit down the space, but can't.  His

belly's too big, his utility belt catching.  He runs back to

the car, opens the door...



The German Shepherd shoots down the alley, a projectile...



DOWN THE TIGHT ALLEYWAY



Christine comes out into OPEN AREA, running on, looking up.

Ruined buildings on all sides, CHAIN LINK FENCES everywhere.

Nicholas arrives, pissed, trying to catch up...



                     NICHOLAS

          You deserted me.



                     CHRISTINE

          You're a grown man.  I'm not

          responsible for you.



                     NICHOLAS

          You're the one who started running.



                     CHRISTINE

          Me?  You're the one who... !

               (sees something)

          Shit!



Christine runs faster.  Nicholas looks back...



The German Shepherd's on its way...



Nicholas faces front, runs, arms pumping, terrified...



The German Shepherd's closing, growling...



Christine and Nicholas reach the CHAIN LINK FENCE ahead...



                     NICHOLAS

          Climb!



Christine makes the leap first, scrambling up the fence.

Nicholas climbs beside her, pulling himself up...



The German Shepherd leaps... bites Nicholas' leg...



Nicholas YELLS -- PANTS RIPPING.  The dog falls with a

mouthful of cloth.



Christine and Nicholas reach the top of the fence, clinging,

balanced on their elbows, looking back.  The German Shepherd

barks and leaps.



Christine and Nicholas start over the fence, beginning their

climb down the other side...



ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE: three OTHER DOGS run from the shadows,

Pit-Bulls and a Doberman, jumping and biting...



Nicholas and Christine scramble back to the top.



All the dogs hop up and down, snapping.  They gnash at each

other and bark at each other, frenzied.



Nicholas and Christine have no choice but to hang, stranded.



                     CHRISTINE

          Now what?



Nicholas looks up, daunted.  He spots something...



There's a place where the fence runs under a FIRE ESCAPE.



                     NICHOLAS

          Follow me...



Nicholas gets a toe-hold, shifts his elbows, grunting,

beginning the herky lateral climb toward the fire escape.

Christine follows his example.



Slow going.  DOGS BARKING NON-STOP, nipping at their heels.



                     CHRISTINE

          Shut up, you stupid, fucking dogs!!



BARKING AND BARKING AND BARKING.



                     CHRISTINE

          What are they guarding around here?

          Each other?



Nicholas slips, keeps grip, but loses a SHOE...



The dogs catch the shoe in their jaws, fighting for it.



Nicholas watches the shoe get torn to pieces, keeps moving.



                     NICHOLAS

          There goes a thousand dollars.



                     CHRISTINE

          Your shoes cost a thousand dollars?



                     NICHOLAS

          That one did.



                     CHRISTINE

               (to herself)

          ... two hundred dollars a toe.



Nicholas reaches the fire escape, balancing precariously to

reach it.  He climbs gracelessly up...



He helps Christine after him, bringing her on board.  They

lean against the rail, exhausted.  Nicholas looks to the

multi-leveled ladders above.



                     NICHOLAS

          Let me guess.  Me first?



He climbs.  Christine looks down at the dogs, stupefied,

looks up at Nicholas on the CREAKING rusty fire escape.



                     CHRISTINE

               (to herself)

          This is getting out of hand.



As she starts up.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  GARBAGE ALLEY -- NIGHT



ABANDONED BUILDING.  Boarded-over windows are kicked open

from inside.  Nicholas and Christine look out.



They climb out onto ANOTHER FIRE ESCAPE, two stories up

above a trash filled, dumpster crowded alley.



                     CHRISTINE

          Never did catch your name.



                     NICHOLAS

          Nicholas.  Nicholas Van Orton.



                     CHRISTINE

          Nicholas Van Orton?  What are you,

          a czar?



Nicholas moves to the catch of the fire escape ladder,

unhooks it.  The LADDER DROPS to bridge the gap to the

ground, KEEPS GOING, sliding free and disconnecting -- falls

flat to the ground below with a LOUD, ECHOING CLATTER.



                     CHRISTINE

               (pause)

          That's classic.



                     NICHOLAS

               (staring down, misery)

          Why... ?



Christine crosses to the far edge of the railing, points.



                     CHRISTINE

          We hang down here and drop.  The

          garbage'll break our fall.



                     NICHOLAS

          I think not.



Christine climbs over the fire escape railing...



                     CHRISTINE

          Afraid you're going to ruin your

          one-legged suit?



She lowers herself down, hanging off, legs dangling...



                     NICHOLAS

          Be careful...



A metal DOOR is THROWN OPEN below.  TWO THAI BUS-BOYS come

out, dumping garbage, smoking cigarettes, laughing.



Above, Christine looks up at Nicholas, mortified.  She nods

urgently for him to help her back up.  Nicholas climbs the

rail, beside her, trying to get a grip, none too effective.



Below, one bus-boy looks up, shouting.  The other bus-boy

looks.  They back away, SPEAKING RAPID THAI, pointing.



                     CHRISTINE

          What are they... ?

               (realizing)

          Hey!



Christine lets go with one hand, trying to pull her skirt

shut.  Nicholas loses hold, drops her...



Christine lands hard in garbage.



                     NICHOLAS

          Are you okay... ?!



Nicholas drops, alarmed... lands in broken plastic bags of

wet garbage, slipping as he moves to Christine.  Bus-boys

are helping her up.



                     CHRISTINE

          I'm okay... I'm okay, thank you...



Bus-boys keep questioning in Thai.  Nicholas and Christine

brush off.  Nicholas takes off his spewed jacket, shakes it

in disgust, straightens his tie.  They stop...



At the doorway, all the COOKS, BUS-BOYS, WAITERS and

DISH-WASHERS stare at Nicholas and Christine in wonder.



Nicholas and Christine stare back.  Nicholas looks to

Christine, brushing rotten lettuce off her shoulder, nods to

the restaurant workers, clears his throat.



                     NICHOLAS

          Table for two, please.



He offers his arm to Christine, she takes it, they head in.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  CITY STREETS -- NIGHT



ONE CONTINUOUS LONG SHOT:  Nicholas and Christine walk,

taking their time, eating out of take-out boxes.



                     CHRISTINE

          Where are we going?



                     NICHOLAS

               (points at skyline)

          That tall, bright building.  Near

          there.



They walk a long time in silence.  A POLICE CAR moves from

behind.  POLICEMAN shines a flashlight up and down Nicholas.



                     POLICEMAN

          Everything okay, miss?



                     CHRISTINE

          Yeah.  How are you?



The police car keeps pace, then drives on.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  NICHOLAS' OFFICE -- NIGHT



Nicholas enters, turning on lights, which dim to a warm

glow.  Christine takes in the impressive office.  Nicholas

crosses to a wall, opens a hidden closet, chooses a shirt.



                     NICHOLAS

          There's a shower, if you'd like.



Christine leans to peek in the bathroom.



                     CHRISTINE

          A shower in your office?  You an

          athlete or something?



Nicholas puts on a new shirt.



Christine circles the desk, runs her fingers down his phone.



                     CHRISTINE

          What exactly do you do?



                     NICHOLAS

          Investment banking.  Moving money

          from place to place.



Christine has wandered to the closed blinds, opening them to

reveal a breathtaking view of the city.



                     CHRISTINE

          Nice.



                     NICHOLAS

          Hm?

               (looks)

          Oh, yes.



Nicholas takes out a SWEATSHIRT and offers it.



                     NICHOLAS

          A fresh shirt...



                     CHRISTINE

               (takes shirt, crossing)

          If this was my office, I wouldn't

          keep that closed.



                     NICHOLAS

          I don't spend much time looking out

          the window.

               (goes to desk)

          I'll call you a taxi.



Christine faces away, throws off her filthy shirt...



Nicholas, on the phone, looks to Christine's shapely back

and RED BRA.  He averts his eyes, embarrassed...



                     NICHOLAS

          Oh!  Uh...



Christine puts on the PENN STATE sweatshirt, straightens it.



                     CHRISTINE

          Thanks.



Nicholas nods, phone to his ear.



                                              	CUT TO:



EXT.  VAN ORTON BUILDING -- NIGHT



TWO CABS.  Nicholas opens the door of the first for

Christine.  She faces him, close.



                     NICHOLAS

          I know the owner of Campton Place.  I

          could talk to him in the morning.



                     CHRISTINE

          Don't.  It was a shitty job anyway.

          I overreacted.



Christine sits, keeps her legs out the door of the cab.

Nicholas stands waiting for her to pull her legs in.



                     NICHOLAS

          Goodnight.



                     CHRISTINE

          I don't think I've ever spent this

          much time with someone who didn't

          even ask my name.



                     NICHOLAS

          The maitre d' called you Christine.



                     CHRISTINE

               (remembering)

          Right.  Call me Christy.



                     NICHOLAS

          Goodnight, Christy.  It was nice

          meeting you.



                     CHRISTINE

          Give me an address so I can send your

          shirt back.



                     NICHOLAS

          Keep it.



She looks up at Nicholas, sits inside.  He shuts the door

and steps back.  Christine rolls her window down.



                     CHRISTINE

          I have a confession to make.  Someone

          gave me six-hundred dollars to spill

          drinks on you, as a practical joke.



                     NICHOLAS

          Seriously?  What did they say?



                     CHRISTINE

          They said five hundred.  I said six.

          They said the man in the gray

          flannel suit.  I think I said, you

          mean the attractive guy in the gray

          flannel suit?



Christine smiles, rolls up the window.  The taxi leaves.

Nicholas watches it go.  A twinge of regret.



EXT.  CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- LATER NIGHT



Nicholas' cab pulls up at the closed restaurant, behind the

Bentley.  A restaurant VALET sweeps the sidewalk, waves to

greet as Nicholas gets out of the cab.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- NIGHT



Nicholas comes from the bathroom, just showered.  He looks

at CNN on TV.  He walks to change channels: infommercials,

B W movies, cartoons.  BUGS BUNNY.  Nicholas leaves Bugs

Bunny on, steps back, watching.



He sits on the bed.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- DAY



Nicholas sleeps.  Cordless PHONE RINGING.  He stirs,

awakens, face creased, hair mussed.



                     NICHOLAS

               (in phone, voice cracks)

          Hel... hello?



                     MARIA (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          Mr. Van Orton, it's Maria.  I... I

          wasn't sure I should call...



                     NICHOLAS

               (in phone)

          What time is it?



Nicholas studies his CLOCK RADIO: 11:05.  He picks it up and

examines it, suspicious.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          Eleven o'clock.  I took the liberty

          of rescheduling your nine a.m. with

          Allison and Dietrich.  Are you... not

          not feeling well?



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll be in in an hour.  I left my

          briefcase at fifteen-thirty-three

          Montgomery.  Check with their lost

          and found.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          Alan Baer's in town, at the

          Ritz-Carlton.



                     NICHOLAS

          Really?



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          He's requesting dinner tonight.



                     NICHOLAS

          We'll let him know.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          Also, the Claremont Hotel called to

          say they have your American Express

          card at the front desk.  You left it

          last night?



Nicholas is confused.  He crosses with the phone, finds and

studies his wallet.  He fingers an empty plastic pocket.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          Should I send someone... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          No.  Give me their number.



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          Eight, four, three, three-thousand.



                     NICHOLAS

          See  you in awhile.  Goodbye.



Nicholas hangs up, dials.



                     HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          Claremont Resort and Spa.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into phone)

          This is Nicholas Van Orton.  I'm told

          my American Express card...



                     HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)

               (from phone)

          Yes, Mister Van Orton.  Everything's

          in order.  The concierge has arranged

          for the wine and flowers in the room.



                     NICHOLAS

          Has he?



                     HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)

          And, a young woman phoned just now to

          say she's on route but running a

          little late.



                     NICHOLAS

               (pause)

          Did this young woman leave her name?



                     HOTEL MANAGER (v.o.)

          I'm sure I don't know.



                     NICHOLAS

          Thank you.



Nichola hangs up, interest piqued.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  BAY BRIDGE -- DAY



Nicholas drives the Bentley.  PREVIOUS CONVERSATION:



                     SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)

          There's no answer.  Would you like

          his voice mail?



                     NICHOLAS (v.o.)

          Tell him his brother called, and to

          call back soon as he can.



                     SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.)

          Yes, sir.



CELLULAR DISCONNECT.  Nicholas looks in his rearview mirror.

THRU MIRROR: a grimy BLACK SEDAN follows... keeps distance.



EXT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL -- DAY



Grand hotel.  Nicholas lelaves his car with the valet.



INT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL, LOBBY -- DAY



At the GLASS DOORS, Nicholas pushes thru.  A THIN MAN in a

plain suit isn't looking, BUMPS Nicholas.



                     THIN MAN

          Sorry.  My fault.



Thin Man exits.  Nicholas crosses the opulent lobby to the

desk.  The grinning HOTEL MANAGER spots him coming.



                     HOTEL MANAGER

          Ah, Mr. Van Orton.  Here you go...



                     NICHOLAS

          Have we met?



He hands over Nicholas' AMEX CARD, which Nicholas studies.



                     HOTEL MANAGER

          I believe so.  If you would jsut sign

          here...



The manager offers a CHARGE SLIP and pen.  Nicholas looks at

the manager, the slip, then signs.  The manager hits a BELL.

A BELLHOP arrives.



                     HOTEL MANAGER

          Show Mr. Van Orton to his room.



                     NICHOLAS

          The key?



                     HOTEL MANAGER

          Hm?



                     NICHOLAS

          Is there a room key?



                     HOTEL MANAGER

          Didn't I give you two?



                     NICHOLAS

          No, you didn't...



Nicholas shakes his head and pats his pockets, stops,

feeling one pocket... reachse in and takes out a GOLD KEY on

a hotel key chain.  Nicholas looks to the GLASS DOORS.



                     NICHOLAS

          Cute.



INT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL, HALL -- DAY



Long hallway.  Nicholas follows the Bellhop.  They arrive at

the door to ROOM 277.



                     NICHOLAS

          I'll take it from here.



He tips the Bellhop, who leaves, uses the key, entering...



INT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL, ROOM 277 -- DAY



Nicholas shuts the door.  There's a room-service cart with

wine chilling.  Nicholas moves down this short hall...



                     NICHOLAS

          Hello... ?



His jaw drops.  The room is TRASHED.  Curtains shredded,

furniture overturned, television imploded, mirror

spiderweb-smashed, walls full of holes.



Nicholas moves forward, having spotted...

His battered BRIEFCASE on the ruined mattress.



The latch is undone.  Nicholas opens it.



Inside: MANY PHOTOGRAPHS of blurry SEX acts.  Bodies in

motion.  Limbs.  Breasts.  A NAKED WOMAN tied to the bed.

One PHOTO shows two women entwined with a NAKED MAN who

appear to be NICHOLAS.  It's a so-so cut-and-paste job.



A LOUD KNOCKING at the door startles Nicholas.  He closes

the briefcase, freaked.



He hurries to the door as POUNDING is HEARD again, puts his

eye to the peephole.



THRU THE PEEPHOLE: a MAIN gets out her keys.



                     MAID

               (thru door)

          Time to make up the room.



Nicholas fumbles with the SECURITY CHAIN, slides it in place

as the door opens -- stopped.  Nicholas keeps hidden.



                     NICHOLAS

          Could you come back later?



                     MAID

          Yes, sir.  Sorry.



THRU THE PEEPHOLE: the maid moves away.



Nicholas crosses to retrieve his briefcase, and is crossing

back when he stops in his tracks upon seeing...



On a dresser, a MIRROR covered in COCAINE lines and residue.



IN THE BATHROOM



Nicholas turns on the faucet, washing the cocaine down the

sink, hands shaking.  The mirror edge cuts his thumb and he

gives a cry, drops the mirror, which SHATTERS on the floor.



Nicholas sucks his thumb, puts it under the faucet.  He

finds a hand cloth and wraps it round his thumb.



There are big blood droplets on the sink and floor.



Nicholas grabs wads of tissues from a box on the back of the

toilet, using them to blot up the blood, throwing tissues in

the toilet and flushing.



Nicholas keeps wiping blood.  The toilet burps, OVERFLOWING.

WATER SPILLS OUT...



Nicholas backs away, panicked, exiting...



INT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL, HALL -- DAY



Nicholas looks out from Room 277.  He sees a MAID CART,

HEARS an O.S. VACUUM CLEANER.  He run-walks down the hall,

hugging his briefcase.  He pushes thru a STAIRWELL DOOR.



EXT.  CLAREMONT HOTEL -- DAY



Nicholas takes his Bentley back from the valet, pulling out

fast to the street.  Further back, the grimy BLACK SEDAN

moves from the curb.



INT.  NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- DAY



Nicholas' mind races.  He wipes sweat off his face.

He glances in his rearview...



THRU MIRROR: the black sedan, following again.



Resolve comes to Nicholas, and anger.  He speeds up.



EXT.  BERKELEY STREETS -- DAY



The Bentley weaves thru traffic, taking a corner sharp.

Nicholas spins the wheel, heading...



DOWN AN ALLEYWAY



Nicholas brakes hard, gets out of the Bentley and heads for

the mouth of the alley...



As the black sedan follows, blocked, stopping.  Nicholas

comes to pull open the car door, confronting the rumpled,

PLUMP GUY behind the wheel.



                     PLUMP GUY

          What the fuck... ?!



                     NICHOLAS

          Why are you following me?



                     PLUMP GUY

          I don't know what you're talking

          about.  I'm just driving...



He falters as he follows Nicholas' angry gaze to the seat

beside him where a FILE is open to a PHOTO of NICHOLAS.



                     PLUMP GUY

               (fumbling to close file)

          Look... what I'm doing is none of

          your business...



                     NICHOLAS

          Is Alan Baer "the Game?"  Is that

          what this is?



                     PLUMP GUY

               (defiant pause)

          Friend... why don't you back off.



He leans as he talks... inside his jacket, he wears a gun.



Nicholas reaches across and pulls the gun, hefting it.



                     PLUMP GUY

          Hey... !



                     NICHOLAS

               (of the gun)

          Nice touch.  Does the game use real

          bullets... ?



Nicholas points the gun at the sedan's rear tire, FIRES!

The gun is SHOCKINGLY LOUS -- BURSTS the TIRE!



Nicholas looks to the smoking weapon, blanching.



Plump Guy leaps to the other seat, scrambling out the

passenger door, submissive...



                     PLUMP GUY

          Okay, I'm a private investigator.

          Somebody hired me to keep tabs on

          you...



Nicholas lifts the gun, unsure, pointing it awkwardly...



                     NICHOLAS

          Who... who hired you?



Plump Guy bolts, running away down the alleyway.  Nicholas aims

the gun after him, but catches himself, lowers it.  He runs

the other direction, back to the Bentley...



Nicholas gets in the car, drops the gun on the seat, drives.



INSIDE THE BENTLEY



Nicholas returns to the street, glancing back.  He looks at

the gun.  He opens the glove compartment, throws the gun in.

He takes out his CELLULAR PHONE, dialing...



                     MARIA (o.s.)

               (from cellular)

          Mister Van Orton's office...



                     NICHOLAS

               (into cellular)

          Maria.  Have Sutherland meet me at

          the Ritz-Carlton.  I'm on my way

          there now.



                     MARIA (o.s.)

          May I tell him... ?



But, Nicholas is already pushing DISCONNECT.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  RITZ CARLTON HOTEL, LOBBY -- DAY



Nicholas enters with briefcase.  Sutherland rises to follow.



                     SUTHERLAND

          What's happened...



                     NICHOLAS

          Follow me.



INT.  RITZ-CARLTON, ALAN BAER'S SUITE -- DAY



A HOTEL EMPLOYEE rolls a room service cart out.  Nicholas

pushes past with Sutherland in tow.  Alan Baer, his handsome

WIFE and lovely DAUGHTER are seated at a table where a

WAITER lays out a splendid meal.



                     ALAN BAER

          Nicholas... this is unexpected.



Nicholas takes out the SEX PHOTOS, throws them on the table.



                     NICHOLAS

          Do you actually believe that because

          you publish children's books,

          anyone's going to care about my

          reputation?



Wife and daughter are frightened.  Alan Baer covers the

photos with his napkin.



                     NICHOLAS

          You could print pictures of me

          wearing nipple rings and butt-fucking

          Captain Kangaroo... all anyone would

          wonder was whether the stock was up,

          or down.



Sutherland's nervousness grows by the second.



                     DAUGHTER

          Daddy... ?



                     ALAN BAER

          It's alright, dear.  Mr. Van Orton...



                     SUTHERLAND

          Nicholas...



                     NICHOLAS

               (still to Alan Baer)

          That you've involved Conrad... is

          unforgivable.  I am now your enemy.



                     ALAN BAER

          Are you finished?



                     NICHOLAS

          No.  This is my lawyer, Samuel

          Sutherland.  I thought you two should

          meet.



                     ALAN BAER

          We met, this morning.  I signed the

          termination contract for Baer/Grace.

          I accepted your settlement, Nicholas.

          you were right.  I'm going sailing.



Nicholas opens his mouth, but no words come.  He looks to

Sutherland.  Sutherland nods to confirm.



                     ALAN BAER

          You're welcome to join our luncheon.

          Maybe we can straighten this our.

               (motioning to...)

          My wife, Mary Carol, and my

          daughter-in-law, Kaliegh.



Wife and daughter give mumbled greetings, having no desire

to meet Nicholas.  Nicholas just stands stymied.



                     NICHOLAS

          It seems I've...  please, disregard

          my apparently misguided remarks.



Nicholas heads for the door, hurrying out.  Alan, wife,

daughter, the waiter and Sutherland exchange looks.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Well...



Sutherland walks to retrieve the sex photos.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Enjoy your lunch.



Sutherland smiles, exiting.



                                              CUT TO:



INT.  NICHOLAS' OFFICE -- DAY



Nicholas sits at his desk, opens his briefcase, checking the

contents.  Soon, Sutherland arrives, shutting the door.  He

watches Nicholas, deciding.



                     SUTHERLAND

          How concerned should I be?



                     NICHOLAS

          It was a misunderstanding.



Sutherland puts the SEX PHOTOS on the desk.



                     NICHOLAS

          Someone's playing hardball.  It's

          complicated.  Can I ask a favor?



                     SUTHERLAND

          You know you can.



                     NICHOLAS

          Find out about a company called

          C.R.S.  Consumer Recreation Services.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Sounds like they make tennis rackets.

          What do we know?



                     NICHOLAS

          Just what I told you.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Nothing else?



Nicholas remembers.  He opens up a file drawer in his desk.



                     NICHOLAS

          They gave me their waiver.  On

          their... wait...



Nicholas hands over a file, returning to his briefcase.  He

finds an ENVELOPE with a SMILELY-FACE on it.  He opens it.

He takes out a silver-plated METAL CRANK.  Like a handle.



                     SUTHERLAND

          What is this?



Nicholas looks up.  Sutherland's looking in the file,

quizzically, hands it back...



Nicholas studies PINK-TINTED PAGES; the pages Feingold gave

him, once dense with words, now completely blank except

for NICHOLAS' SIGNATURE and INITIALS several places.



                     NICHOLAS

               (of the pages)

          Christ... I can't believe it...

          invisible ink?



                     SUTHERLAND

          You're joking.



                     NICHOLAS

          It's what they do.  It's like...

          being toyed with by a bunch of...

               (picks up SEX PHOTOS)

          Depraved children.



Nicholas examines each photo.  Sutherland goes to leave.



                     SUTHERLAND

          Very well.  If you tell me not to

          worry, I shan't.



                     NICHOLAS

          Sam...

               (as Sutherland stops)

          Thank you.



Sutherland exits.  Nicholas keeps examining the pictures.

He sits forward, finding something...



IN A PHOTO: the out-of-focus back of a NAKED WOMAN wearing

only a RED BRA.



                     NICHOLAS

               (INTO PHONE-INTERCOM)

          Maria.  The other night... last

          night, there was a woman here named

          Christine.  I called a taxi, from

          that company we use...



                     MARIA (v.o.)

               (FROM PHONE-INTERCOM)

          Elite?



                     NICHOLAS

          What?



                     MARIA (v.o.)

          Elite Taxi Company?



                     NICHOLAS

          Look into it.  Find out which car

          answered and where they took her.



Nicholas sits back.  He picks up the METAL CRANK, twists it

in his hands, frowning, pockets it.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, GARAGE -- NIGHT



The rapid SOUND of a PHONE OFF THE HOOK is HEARD OVER: BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP... The Bentley pulls in.  Headlights out.



IN THE CAR, Nicholas takes the gun from the glove

compartment and puts it in his briefcase.



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT



Dark.  The PHONE OFF THE HOOK is LOUDER, grating: BEEP BEEP

BEEP BEEP BEEP...  Nicholas comes in the back door, peering

into the weak moonlight.



                     NICHOLAS

          Ilsa?



Nicholas replaces the phone on its cradle.  QUIET.



He reaches for a light switch, ZAP! -- BLUE SPARKS leap to

his fingers.  Nicholas YELPS and shakes his hand out.



The switch has been RIPPED OUT, leaving exposed wiring.



Nicholas goes to his briefcase, getting the gun and moving

forward, wary, calling out...



                     NICHOLAS

          Ilsa!?



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT



In the blackness, Nicholas comes to stand at the doorway,

levels the gun at someone across the room...



                     NICHOLAS

          I've got a gun!



There's a roaring fire in the giant fireplace and a FIGURE

in a chair.  Nicholas eases forward...



It's the HARLEQUIN in the chair, with a GLOSSY B W PHOTO

between its teeth.  Nicholas pulls out the picture...



A POLICE PHOTO of NICHOLAS' FATHER, his body sprawled.

It's stamped "PROPERTY SFPD" in red.



There's a NOTE papere-clipped behind:

"Like my father before me, I choose eternal sleep."  At the

bottom, a RED SIGNATURE ARROW affixed, "Please Sign Here."



Suddenly, ALL LIGHTS SURGE TO LIFE, icy and ghoulish -- each

and every bulb replaced by BLACK LIGHT...



Nicholas pivots slowly, taking in the horror...



The wrecked den is covered in FLUORESCENT SPRAY-PAINT

GRAFFITI: "WELCOME HOME"  "FUCK YOU"  "NICHOLAS VAN

COCKSUCKER"  "SUCK IT"  "C.R.S. RULES"  "HAVING FUN, RICH

BOY?"  Everywhere.  Across windows, paintings and curtains.



The ceiling is covered in "MOMMA'S BOY" and OBSCENITIES.



Scaffolding's been left behind.  Used SPRAY CANS on the

splattered Oriental rug.  A PAINT/AIR COMPRESSOR.



                     NICHOLAS

          ... fuckers...



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- NIGHT



A glowing ANARCHY SYMBOL sprayed across the door which is

throw open by Nicholas as he enters.



It's all BLACK LIT here too.  GRAFFITIED and DESTROYED.

"HELTER SKELTER: in jolting letters.  Nicholas backs out...



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, VARIOUS ROOMS -- NIGHT



FOLLOW: Nicholas down the hall and around corners, BLACK

LIGHTS above, walls covered in CURSES and MULTI-COLORED

SQUIGGLES.  Like a bad trip thru the Bat-Cave...



DOWN STAIRS



Past OTHER ROOMS likewise awash in vibrant slurs...



THRU THE KITCHEN



Now also revealed as ruined.  Nicholas goes out the door...



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- NIGHT



Nicholas runs to the GUEST HOUSE.



INT.  VAN ORTON GUEST HOUSE, FOYER -- NIGHT



BANGING on the FRONT DOOR.  Ilsa comes to look thru the

peephole, opens the door to a breathless Nicholas.



                     ILSA

          Mr. Van Orton... ?



                     NICHOLAS

          Ilsa... you're alright?



                     ILSA

          Yes. What do you mean?  What's wrong?



                     NICHOLAS

          Did the alarm go off?  The house...

          they... you didn't see... ?



                     ILSA

          I don't know what you're talking

          about.  What's happened?



                     NICHOLAS

          There's been a break in.  Lock this

          door and stay here.  Don't move a

          muscle.



Nicholas runs back toward the house.



                     ILSA

          Be careful!



EXT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- NIGHT



Crossing the lawn, Nicholas pulls out his cellular phone,

dialing as he runs, takes out his gun.



                     911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

               (from cellular)

          Nine-one-one, emergency...



                     NICHOLAS

               (into cellular)

          I need the police.  There's been a

          break-in at my home...



                    911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

               (from cellular)

          Okay, sir.  Stay on the line and give

          me your address...



INT.  VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT



Nicholas enters, still on the phone, locking the door,

beginning to punch the security code into the ALARM KEYPAD.



                     NICHOLAS

               (into cellular)

          Twenty-two Moore Street.  At the

          corner of Moore and Buchanan.



                     911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

          Now, sir, you said it was a

          break-in...



                     NICHOLAS

          Yes...



                     911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

          Are you sure they're gone... ?



As Nicholas finishes the security code, the KEYPAD BEEPS,

and Nicholas straightens, worried.



                     911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

          ... are you sure there's not still

          someone somewhere in the house?



                     NICHOLAS

          I... don't think so.



And with the DYING HUMMMMMMMM of POWER FAILING, all the

BLACK LIGHTS GO OUT.  Nicholas raises his gun...



                     NICHOLAS

          Oh God...



Pointing it into the dark kitchen, hand trembling.



                     911 OPERATOR (v.o.)

          Hello?  Are you still there?



Behind, a DARK FIGURE outside rises against the kitchen door

window, POUNDING FRANTICALLY!  Nicholas leaps and spins,

CRYING OUT in terror, dropoping the gun...



The gun bounces across the linoleum.



It's CONRAD at the kitchen door, haggard and scared, his

pale face pressed against the glass, pointing frantically.



                     CONRAD

          Meet me out front!



Conrad ducks away, moving on.



                                              CUT TO:



EXT.  CITY STREETS -- NIGHT



The Bentley takes a corner fast, heading downhill, moving

from residential to mostly urban...



INSIDE THE BENTLEY



Nicholas drives.  Conrad looks back over his shoulder, a man

on the run, dark circles under his eyes.



                     NICHOLAS

          Tell me where we're going.



                     CONRAD

          Just drive, man.

               (slumps low)

          It's fucking nuts!



                     NICHOLAS

          What's this all about, Connie?



                     CONRAD

          Shhhhhhh.  Wait... wait...



Conrad flips the sunshade, looks behind it, feels the fabric

of the roof and the seam of the door.



He grips the interior LIGHT, breaks it open, pulling the

bulb and wires.



                     NICHOLAS

          What are you doing?



                     CONRAD

          They're methodical.  They're nothing

          if they're not that.



                     NICHOLAS

          Who?



                     CONRAD

          C.R.S.  Who do you think?  Jesus H.,

          thank your lucky charms.  To think

          what I almost got you into.



                     NICHOLAS

               (miserable)

          Yeah, almost...



                     CONRAD

          You dodged a bullet.



                     NICHOLAS

          How do you mean, exactly?



                     CONRAD

          They fuck you and they fuck you and

          they fuck you.  And then, just when

          you think it's done, that's when

          the real fucking begins.



                     NICHOLAS

          Slow down, take a breath...



                     CONRAD

          It doesn't stop, Nick.  I paid the

          bill, I gave 'em their money, but it

          all started again.  They won't leave

          me alone...



                     NICHOLAS

          What have they been doing to you?



                     CONRAD

          Everything.  I'm a goddamn

          human-pinata...



                     NICHOLAS

          Calm down.  Why would they keep

          playing after you paid?



                     CONRAD

          You think I know?  I paid them more

          to make it stop.



BOOM! -- the wheel jerks in Nicholas' hand, TIRES SCREAM...



                     CONRAD

          What the hell... !?



ON THE STREET



A TIRE'S BLOWN OUT.  Riding the rim, the car jerks over...



INSIDE THE BENTLEY



Nicholas stops at the