Part 1: Something’s Happening
An original screenplay
Background
Chalk this script from the early 90s up as a “glorious failure,” a tortuous, over-wrought monstrosity with glimmers of zany brilliance. Despite its glaring failings, I’ve scanned, reformatted, and — aside from a few fixed typos and alarming inconsistencies — reposted it here verbatim for the same reasons I’ve shared various other projects from my years as a writer.
Digging into my archival cookie jar has for the most part been exhilarating and validating. Dusting off and sharing projects ranging from short stories to full length plays, screenplays, and even an essay submission to Vanity Fair has taken me back to the equally diverse life phases in which I wrote them. The experience has been akin to flipping through a creative diary.
The distances in space and time have also enabled a degree of objectivity every writer both fears and cherishes. Rereading my writing as a reader would, I’ve been struck by the overall quality. My own worst critic, printing these projects out and tucking them away gave me a sense of relief, as if their exposure would trigger feelings of embarassment, even regret.
The opposite has actually been true — except for this disaster, paradoxically the project I worked on the most and in retrospect like the least. The silver lining is the value of failures, which teach us far more than the hubris of successes, that instead merely reinforce what we already know, and have already done. Yes, this screenplay sucks — figuring out why is illuminating.
At bottom is the inchoate writer’s tendency to try too hard. Lacking experience and low in self-confidence, the reasonable goal of good enough is superseded by the irrational compulsion to over-compensate by over-doing. The end result is putting most of the effort in areas with the least consequence, and neglecting or ignoring the essentials of storytelling.
Another challenge while writing this mess was the circumstances, which ostensibly could have produced a far better and more effective narrative. I’ve recently written another post about the strange and wonderful world within which this steaming turd was written, and how one of the key plot elements might have influenced the Coen Brothers’ The Big Lebowsky.
Really, really. That said — and whether or not Joel and Ethan Coen mixed up Jeffrey Lebowsky the millionaire with Jeffrey Lebowsky the Dude thanks to Michael Eric Spitz the actor and Michael George Spitz (me) the writer — Something’s Happening for all of its failings and because of them shows how far I’ve come and what I’ve learned, and for those I’ll be forever grateful.
Crystalized into the essential lesson, I was taught the obvious — that good storytelling is all about compelling characters trying to overcome obstacles to get whatever they happen to want or need. Maximum impact is had through maximum clarity: motivations are clear, as are the obstacles. Drama unfolds organically, like chess with each piece following the rules.
The opposite is of course also true, great novels, plays. and movies where the dramatic tension is driven more by ambiguity than clarity. But to capture the creepy claustrophobia of Pinter, say, or the absurdist confusion of Ionesco, you need to first master the basics. As Picasso allegedly once said: “Learn the rules like a pro, so you can break them like an artist.”
Neither a pro nor an artist, I fucked this screenplay up because I didn’t let the characters do their own thing. Not until a hundred pages in do they actually talk to each other, and even then you can hardly hear them within a plot so complex, a timeline so fragmented, that nobody knows what the hell is going on, least of whom the reader, and presumably the writer.
Unlike most of my writing, done in luxurious isolation, this screenplay was written to break into the film industry. The “Other Mike Spitz” as I called him was going to act in a pilot, and this Mike Spitz, me, wrote that pilot, and ostensibly an entire movie around and within which that pilot lived. The pressure was high, as were the expectations — and naive confusion.
Like characters in a Mamet play, much ado was had about nothing, the end result an abject failure in every way: the pilot was never shot, the script was terrible, we never got a break, and our creative partnership and personal friendship were ruined. Perhaps some day I’ll rewrite this turd, applying what I’ve learned — for now, here’s the fossil of an extinct creature. Enjoy!
Here goes…
Something’s Happening
An Original Screenplay
by Michael G. Spitz
WGA: #529755
Darkness, with a childish, teasing voice over:
“Mick-ey! Mick-ey Mos-ka-vitz! — Hey! — Mick-ey! Where are ya. Mick-ey!? — Mick-ey, yeah. you! Mick-ey Mosk-a-vitz!…”
DAY 6: INT — TUNNEL, late evening:
Silence and darkness.
Thin light beam pans left to right, back again, penetrating misty darkness, casting shifting shadows of two approaching men, masked with pantyhose.
INTRUDERl: slim, holds flashlight, map. smokes cigarette through mask
INTRUDER2: muscular, carries equipment. Angle on leather strap bracing large cylinder to him.
DAY 1: EXT — SPORTING ARENA. early morning:
Close up tassles, black and dangling with gold graduating class symbol.
Dolly back, to black graduation cap. Underneath smiles face of MICKEY MOSKAVITZ1: tall, thin, wire-rim glasses. dark curly hair.
Dolly continues to reveal entire stage lined with college graduates.
INT — TUNNEL:
Reverse angle INTRUDERS, flashlight panning large iron door: numbered dial in center, large handle to right.
INTRUDERS squat, unload gear.
INTRUDERl hands flashlight to INTRUDER2.
Close up dial: Numbers covered with grit, black gloved hand wipes dial, presses stethoscope against door. Other hand turns cylinder slowly.
Squeaking noises, grinding gears.
INTRUDER2
I thought we had the right information.
INTRUDERl
Maybe we’re at the wrong leak.
INTRUDER2
Maybe we’ve got the wrong locksmith.
INTRUDERl
(whisperlng)
Ssh! — Give me time! You think this is easy? —
INTRUDER2
— Only tough part is having to work with you.
EXT — GRADUATION, ON STAGE:
MICKEY MOSKAVITZl stands next to EDDIE: tall, muscular.
MICKEYl
Whaddaya think, Eddie?
EDDIE
Are you ready?
MICKEYl
Now-or-never, do-or-die, if not now —
EDDIE
— Timing! Don’t blow the timing, Mickey Moskovitz.
MICKEYl
I’m an art history major, remember?
EDDIE
Yeah? Whaddaya plan to do with it? Advertising?
MICKEYl
Are you kidding? Lower my standards? Sell out?
EDDIE
Absolutely.
MICKEYl
But what about art?
EDDIE
What about it?
MICKEYl
Never mind.
EDDIE
See? You did learn something in college, after all.
Pan cheering crowd. Flags flying, colored balloons dangling.
INT — TUNNEL:
Close up turning dial, “click.”
Hand pulls handle. Jams.
INTRUDER2 gives light to INTRUDERl, works handle.
INTRUDER2 struggles, drops his bag, falls beside INTRUDERl.
Close up spilled bag, contents: many papers, including INTRUDER2’s prison ID, “Mickey Moskovitz”.
INTRUDERl replaces papers, throws bag over his own shoulder.
INTRUDER2
No go. (shakes head) There’s a real mix-up here.
INTRUDERl
I thought we could count on your strength.
INTRUDER2
I thought we could count on your brains.
INTRUDERl
What next?
INTRUDER2
Step aside, Beauregard.
INTRUDER2 reaches for large cylinder.
INTRUDERl
Of course! Da gas — Da gas —
EXT — GRADUATION. ON STAGE:
Torches blaze, grads await diplomas.
“Mickey Moskovitz” announced on PA.
Track MICKEYl to DEAN.
DEAN smiles, looks at watch.
MICKEYl walks, waves to crowd. stops near DEAN.
Close up DEAN placing diploma into MICKEYl’s hand, with much applause.
INT — TUNNEL. INSIDE VAULT:
Small room. Many shelves, open steel box.
Close up INTRUDERI handing INTRUDER2 rolled canvas.
INTRUDER2
You sure this is the one? —
INTRUDERl
— That’s it. We got it.
INTRUDER2 hurriedly tucks roll into his own jacket.
INTRUDER2
Finally. Let’s get outta here.
Track INTRUDERS as they exit room. through burned iron door.
INTRUDERS halt outside door.
INTRUDER2 dismantles torch device.
INTRUDERl reaches for cigarette.
Above. glass breaks. much commotion.
INTRUDERS stare up at ceiling.
Point of view: large pipes. water streams. spider webs scintillate.
INTRUDERS mesmerized.
Television turns on (sporting event). shouting filters down, sound of a dog barking.
INTRUDERl
Guess who’s home.
INTRUDER2
Never mind them.
INTRUDERl
Yeah? Then how we gonna get out of here?
INTRUDER2
I’ll figure something out.
INTRUDERl
All I need is a bust, you hear me?
INTRUDER2
I’ll go see if there’s another way out. Stay here.
INTRUDER2 leaves equipment, walks up tunnel, flashlight panning.
INTRUDERl squats near door, receding.
Upstairs noises continue.
INTRUDER2
(whispering to himself, looking up)
Wish they would kill each other, get it over with.
EXT — GRADUATION, IN STANDS:
Close up plastic lip being draped over nozzle on cylinder.
Hand turns knob, plastic inflates into bright red balloon.
EXT — GRADUATION, ON STAGE:
Announcement, all grads bow low but MICKEYl and EDDIE, who suddenly raise their robes over their heads, revealing they’re naked underneath.
EXT — GRADUATION, IN STANDS:
BALLOON MAN inflates plastic for MARCIA MOSKAVITZ (MICKEYl ‘s sister).
MANNY MOSKAVITZ and MINNIE MOSKAVITZ (father and mother) stare open mouthed at prank, as balloon slips off nozzle, noisy zzzwweeelll as balloon rapidly flies into sky.
INT — TUNNEL:
Foreground: INTRUDER2 continues trek.
Background: INTRUDERl lights cigarette —
Suddenly: FLAMING EXPLOSION.
INTRUDER2 hurled forward. to ground.
Wall of flame rushes toward camera.
INTRUDER2 stumbles to feet, races ahead.
Hold on whirling cloud of flame, smoke.
Piercing scream, many loose papers go flying.
INT — TUNNEL, NEAR VAULT:
INTRUDERl thrashes on ground, body enveloped in flame.
Body convulses, lies inert.
Close up INTRUDERl’s masked face, burning.
INT — GRADUATION, ON STAGE:
Close up MICKEYl ‘s face, outlined through graduation robe.
Dolly back as robes cascade down. MICKEYl and EDDIE bow, wave.
EXT — GRADUATION, IN STANDS:
MANNY and MINNIE, staring, mouths still gaping open.
DAY 6 — MOSKAVITZ HOUSE NEIGHBORHOOD, FOLLOWING EXPLOSION:
Track along street, suburban neighborhood.
People mill about, relax, wash cars, etc.
Stop at residence. MOSKAVITZ HOUSE, very typical. Track up lawn, porch. Smoke pouring from underneath front door.
OLDER MAN’S VOICE
Women, children first! — Women and children first! —
OLDER WOMAN’S VOICE
— My family! My cookbooks! My pictures!- My —
YOUNGER MAN’S VOICE
— I wonder if I should have gone to grad school? —
YOUNGER WOMAN’S VOICE
— I hope we can move to New York or something —
SOUND OF DOG
— Whoofl Whoof! Whoof! Whoof!
Much commotion, moment total silence.
Door crashes down, FAMILY rushes out:
MANNY in t-shirt; MINNIE in calico apron, dragging sack of belongings — MICKEYl with white rose — MARCIA, enormous Newfoundland dog in arms — then cats, canaries, a lizard.
Track into smoking house, stop at basement door, stairs leading to underground tunnel.
INTRUDER2 rushes out onto lawn.
Pan down to newspaper. Masthead reads:
MIODLEBERG EXAMINER with feature, whose headline reads:
IMPRESSIONIST ART SHOWING BEGINS JULY 4 WEEKEND
Wailing sirens, gaping neighbors. INTRUDER2 runs with rolled canvas.
EXT — GRADUATION, ON STAGE:
Grads simultaneously toss their tassled hats into air.
DAY 2: EXT — HIGHWAY OUTSIDE CITY OF MIDDLEBERG, early morning:
MICKEYl lifts canvas, unrolls on lap.
Close up of Degas’ ‘Two Dancers On Stage: oil painting depicting two ballerinas, with as much emphasis on barren stage and backdrops as two dancers: reticent one cut off by boundaries of canvas, dominant ballerina in throws of pirouette, centered.
MICKEYl and OLD MAN lean close.
MICKEYl suddenly straightens, rolls canvas up.
OLD MAN
Pretty valuable, eh?
MICKEYl
Absolutely. (Pause) Some likeness, wouldn’t you say? My graduation project. I got an “A”.
OLD MAN
Yes — why, yes, yes indeed: a most impressive likeness, most impressive.
MICKEYl
Yes. (looks out window) Of course.
EXT — SHOULDER OF HIGHWAY
Point of view from within moving car rapidly passing tall, muscular HITCHHIKER: MICKEY MOSKAVITZ2, black jeans, shirt, vest, leather jacket, boots, who flashes The Finger.
Reverse view from roadside: police car full of uniformed police, shot deer tied to roof:
POLICE OFFICERS
(chorus of Slavic, Italian, Irish accents)
Funk ’til you drop!
MICKEY2 repeats gesture, turns to face HITCHHIKERS off roadside.
HITCHHIKERl
You reek of ex-con, Moskavitz.
HITCHHIKER2
He’s right, Mickey. Would you even pick yourself up?
MICKEY2
Mirrors and all.
HITCHHIKER3
That’s because you’re always looking for trouble.
HITCHERS laugh, MICKEY2 frowns, gathers stuff together, plods back to group, sits down at makeshift fire.
MICKEY2
We’ve been trying for hours, not a single ride yet.
Movement in bushes behind group. HITCHERS turn to look.
HITCHHIKERl
Must be a mighty big bunny.
HITCHHIKER2
Either that, or a mighty small moose.
Out struts an extremely attractive woman, dressed suggestively.
HITCHHIKER3
Neither bugs nor bullwinkle — I think that’s a sure fire hitch if I ever saw one.
HITCHESS prances to roadside, pops lollipop into mouth, hefts up miniskirt.
Car screeches to shoulder.
HITCHESS dillies over, window on passenger side rolled down. Moment’s conversation: door is opened. Out of bushes runs older male, carrying luggage.
HITCHHIKER2
Gentlemen, I think we have just been scammed.
INT — BUS:
OLD MAN’s eyes open very wide:
OLD MAN
(screaming)
— Je-sus Christ—
OLD MAN leaps up, clutching head.
OLDMAN
I think I’m having a fucking heart attack!
OLD MAN starts breathing irregularly, convulsively.
Sweep back across shocked faces to THE KID, who frowns, taps his heart with finger, points to his forehead, shakes finger back and forth, taps his heart again.
OLD MAN quickly moves his hand from head to heart.
OLD MAN
Ah! I think I am having a heart attack! (More heavy breathing) Do you hear me? Can you help me? I’m having a heart attack! Aaoaahl Aaah!- Ooh.
OLD MAN collapses, rolls into aisle. begins to thrash.
PASSENGERS gape with fright.
KID
Yo, driver! You’d better stop the bus. Looks like that old guy is really tripping out.
BUS DRIVER
(looking into mirror)
No fooling: I think you’re right.
Bus slows down, veers toward shoulder, halts.
BUS DRIVER
Do me a favor, kid: Calm those people down, and ask ‘em to get out while I call somebody.
THE KID
No problem. You can count on me.
THE KID begins moving down aisle, evacuating bus.
THE KID
Give the old fellow some room now, give him some room… Please clear out, the driver’s calling an ambulance…. Make room for the paramedics… Everything’s gonna be alright… Don’t panic now…
MICKEYl
Shouldn’t someone stay to watch the old guy? Does anyone know CPR?
THE KID
Don’t worry about a thing, good buddy. Just in case, I learned CPR and stuff in school. You folks are just going to have to clear out… We’ve got a crisis here… What’s wrong with you folks? Are you people deaf? Stupid? Middle class?… Don’t rob the poor guy of his last, dying breath…
PASSENGERS shuffle off, leaving THE KID, OLD MAN, luggage left behind during panic.
THE KID gives OLD MAN wink, they begin to comb bus for valuables.
They stuff them into THE KID’s knapsack, OLD MAN’s overcoat.
OLD MAN points to MICKEYl ‘s roll. THE KID takes canvas, replaces it wHh poster roll.
Sirens: OLD MAN drops.
KID
I think he’s coming around! Would someone please help me carry the old guy off the bus? Yo! — I think he might have a couple drinks left in him yet!
BUS DRIVER, THE KID, and MICKEYl drag OLD MAN off bus.
THE KID
Are you okay old guy?
OLD MAN
Oh. (coughs) Yeah, much, much better. Thank you.
THE KID
No big deal. dood. Anything for a fellow in need.
MICKEYl
Look. You got a place to stay in town fella? My parents live not far from here. I’ll take you over, clean you up, and get you back in gear.
OLD MAN
You are an angel, a young angel. But I couldn’t impose upon you like that…
BUS DRIVER
Yo, bug-eyes, can you handle grandpa?
MICKEYl
No problem. I’ll get a cab, and you can drive the bus into town like nothing happened.
THE DRIVER
Yeah, yeah, great. Here’s twenty bucks. (reaches into pocket) Go and get yourselves a lift.
MICKEYl holds out hand, OLD MAN snatches bill away. All gape at OLD MAN, who clutches bill to his chest, swooning.
OLD MAN
Oh, oh, oh…
EXT — SHOULDER OF HIGHWAY:
DRIVER (MARTY MARTINS, dead ringer for MICKEYl) opens trunk.
HITCHESS leans on car, sucking pop. MICKEY2 rushes over.
MICKEY2
Stop before you make a big mistake.
DRIVER
Excuse me?
MICKEY2
This woman is obviously under duress.
DRIVER
What are you talking about?
MICKEY2
Oldest runaway trick I know. (Pointing) This man has coerced this woman — money, perhaps threatsinto this tastless con. Did she offer you something, if you would also take her “friend”?
DRIVER
Uh, well. Hey. You’re wrong, ace. This is none of your damn business!
MICKEY2
No, fella, you’ve got it wrong. Because if this woman has been coerced, forced to act against her will, well, we could be talking serious charges.
DRIVER
I don’t believe this! I didn’t do anything.
MICKEY2 stares at HITCHESS, who smiles broadly.
FRIEND
Now wait just a second here!
MICKEY2
How long have you known this woman?
FRIEND
I met her in a bar about two, three — now hold on! Who the hell are you? You a cop?
MICKEY2 reaches into jacket, flashes prison ID rapidly.
MICKEY2
Ms. Roxanne Dupont here is a runaway, and her millionaire poppa has hired me to bring her on home. Now, I’m quite sure that the parents would be most appreciative to all those who proved themselves particularly cooperative —
MICKEY2 quickly removes pad, pen from another jacket pocket.
MICKEY2
May I have your name and number sir?
FRIEND
Uh, no, no thanks. (to HITCHESS) Give them my regards, babe. Thanks for the memories.
FRIEND tosses bag to HITCHESS, shakes head, plods down roadside.
DRIVER
Wow. Yeah, uh — how bout I give you both a lift in?
DRIVER picks up luggage, tosses into trunk, shakes head, gets into auto.
Whistles, boos from HITCHHIKERS.
MICKEY2
You could always run away, runaway.
HITCHESS leans on auto, cranes her head to one side.
HITCHESS
But where could I run to in a place like this?- A young woman like myself, spoiled from birth, so he/pass, so vulnerable, away from home for so very long? I’d just be looking for trouble.
HITCHESS rubs hair, leans seductively on car.
HITCHESS
Oh. by the way, officer. How did you know my name was Roxanne?
EXT — ALONG SHOULDER:
PASSENGERS shuffle back into bus.
Bus roars off toward town amid sound of complaining, MICKEYl and OLD MAN get into cab. T
HE KID runs up, knocks on window. MICKEYl rolls it down.
KID
Yo, chief! I figure we’re all in this together now, huh?
MICKEYl
What are you talking about?
KID
Pretty traumatical for everybody and all, huh?
MICKEYl
Yeah. And?
KID
I feel like we all went through something- Don’t you like me? (kicks gravel) Hey! Mind if I come along, see this thing through with ya?
MICKEYl
See what through? All I’m going to do is clean him up, get him some supper…
KID
Yeah? What’s for dinner?- I mean, wouldn’t it be kinda cool to hang out. talk about old times?
MICKEYl
(shaking his head)
What old times?
KID
You don’t like my haircut? My board? My music? My culture, my generation, my whole lifestyle, man?
MICKEYl
Nothing personal, kid. But I don’t even know you. Besides, I’m not sure how my parents would take to both of you coming home with me…
KID
Oh, now I get it. They’d really hate it, huh? I mean, if you brought not only this foul smelling old guy home, but a young punk kid with a board and and attitude. I won’t take it personally, the Doc’s enough of a burden, I know.
MICKEY 1
(contemplatively)
Yeah, I think they’d be furious. Absolutely furious. Bad enough that I majored in art history — and now this!
KID
Oh, hell. Never mind then…
MICKEY 1
Get in.
KID
What?
MICKEYl
Is your cap on too tight? I said “get in”.
KID throws knapsack onto MICKEYl’s lap, enters.
Ambulance pulls up as cab pulls out: DRIVER and PARAMEDIC scramble out.
AMBULANCE DRIVER
No bus. Where’s the damn bus?
PARAMEDIC
What bus? I don’t see no bus.
AMBULANCE DRIVER
No stiff. Where’s the damn stiff?
PARAMEDIC
What stiff? I don’t see no stiff.
AMBULANCE DRIVER
Great. Another life saved. Let’s go get a deli sandwich.
DAY 2: EXT — DOWNTOWN MIDDELBERG, MAIN STREET, that morning:
Track MICKEYl walking up street, peers into shops, carries paper roll.
FLASHBACK: MOSKAVITZ HOUSE, indeterminate time:
Pan across sofa full of senior citizens.
Oil painting of MOSKAVITZ patriarch in background. Pan continues to end of sofa, MICKEYl sitting, crammed, eating popcorn.
Rapid pan back to other end:
PATERNAL GRANDFATHER
(strong New York accent)
I told him to go to college to study something practical!
PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
(persnickety, flustered)
Who cares what he studied — he just doesn’t want to work a decent job!
MATERNAL GRANDFATHER
(sympathetic, but in a pitying way)
How can he find a decent job, if he didn’t study anything practical?
MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
(staring dully, out of it)
I told him to go to college to study something practical!
MICKEYl grimaces.
Sweep rapidly back to other end:
PATERNAL GRANDFATHER
It’s his father’s fault! He didn’t teach him any responsibility!
PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
It’s his mother’s fault! She was too easy on him, spoiled him terribly!
MATERNAL GRANDFATHER
It’s his whole generation’s fault! They are a bunch of screw offs!
MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
I told him to go to college to study something practical!
MICKEYl pushes popcorn away. Sweep rapidly back again:
PATERNAL GRANDFATHER
He has all the opportunities in the world, to do anything he wants, and he does nothing!
PATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
He does nothing, and look at him, he can do anything he wants. all the opportunities in the world!
MATERNAL GRANDFATHER
Too many opportunities, he’s gotten everything he’s ever wanted, no wonder he does nothing!
MATERNAL GRANDMOTHER
I told him to go to college to study something practical!
MICKEYl turns to relatives.
Dolly out to reveal entire sofa: relatives simultaneously turn to MICKEYl.
GRANDPARENTS
(a chorus of grandparental torpitude)
Get a decent job already. will ya?!
EXT — DOWNTOWN:
MICKEYl walks up to Toy Store. enters.
INT — TOY STORE:
TOY STORE CLERK’s back turned. counting change in register.
TOY STORE CLERK
(mechanically)
Fifty-five. sixty, sixty-five. seventy- seventy-five. eighty. eighty-five, ninety, ninety-five… What do you want?… One. one-ten, one-twenty, one-thirty, oneforty- one-fifty. one-sixty…
MICKEYl reaches for redheaded doll.
TOY STORE CLERK
…one-seventy. one-eighty. are you trying to nickel and dime me, you son of a bitch, one-ninety, two. two-ten, two-twenty…
MICKEYl swoops his hand back to side.
MICKEYl
Uh, no, no, not at all. I was just looking at it.
TOY STORE CLERK
…two-sixty, two-seventy. two-eighty. don’t try and pull anything on me, or I’ll call the cops and have you run in for shoplifting two-ninety. three…
MICKEYl
You got it all wrong! I came in because of the sign! (Pause) I used to shop here all the time as a kid-
TOY STORE CLERK
…three-ninety, four, four-ten, four-twenty, who cares? four-thirty, four-forty, four-fifty, you ever work in a toy store before? four-sixty, four-seventy…
MICKEYl
No, I haven’t. I just got back to town, and I need —
TOY STORE CLERK
…five-ten, five-twenty, how do you expect to work in a toy store if you haven’t ever worked in a toy store before? Five-thirty, five-forty, get out, you aren’t qualified, five-fifty, five-sixty, five-seventy…
MICKEYl
Qualified? To work in a damn toy store? I just got a degree! I don’t know who you are used to dealing with, but I deserve better than this!
TOY STORE CLERK
…six-ten, six-twenty, college, huh, sixt-thirty, six-forty, I guess you must be over-qualified then, six-fifty, six-seventy, then I wonder why the hell you want this job? six-eighty, six-ninety…
MICKEYl
I need a job to just live, to be connected with people, while I do my art —
TOY STORE CLERK
…seven-twenty, seven-thirty, art, that’s too bad, seven-forty, seven-fifty, if you’d have majored in accounting, seven-forty, seven-fifty, then you might stand a teddy bear’s ass of a chance, seven-sixty, seven-seventy, but this way, you can go make fivebucks-an-hour someplace else, seven-eighty. sevenninety, stuck up prick, eight, eight-ten, eight…
MICKEYl grimaces, looks nervously around, eye falling back on the figurine.
He removes wallet.
MICKEYl
How much for the girl?
EXT — DOWTOWN, ALONG MAIN STREET:
Track MICKEY2 walking up street. carrying large bag.
FLASHBACK: PRISON, indeterminate time:
PRISONERS on folding chairs opposite TV. GUARD stands in background.
MICKEY2 sits on end. eating popcorn. Pan other way.
ARSONIST
(scratchy, croaking voice)
I torch one building, and they give me ten to twelve. This prick here robs old ladies, and he gets out in four. No justice.
MURDERER
(young, angered, lost)
I waste my old man, and they give me twelve to twenty. My daddy had it coming, the son of a bitch. They should have given me a medal, not a lock up.
RAPIST
(sleazoid macho jerk)
Yeah. I jump this bitch’s bones, and they ship me up the river with you jokers. Bitch had it comin. Now look at me — and look at him, gettin out so easy.
COUNTERFEITER
(mild mannered, glasses, dorky)
You got it bad? I paint a little picture. Takes some talent to do that, and they reward me for my special gift with a hotel stay with arsonists, murderers, and rapists — and this house burglar who gets out easy.
MICKEY2, eating popcorn.
Sweep rapidly back to end of chairs:
ARSONIST
If he would have stolen anything worth his bones, he’d be with us for the whole show!
MURDERER
That’s right. His father must have worked him over good, let me tell you, for him to have turned out such a pussy. Old man’s probably just laughin at him.
RAPIST
Takes a man to be a man, for sure. A real man won’t go sneakin around. A real man pounces! and takes a frontal attack, goin for broke, goin all the way!
COUNTERFEITER
Only a talented person could get thousands for a — picture, week’s work, you know. Good, solid, honest work, too. (Pause) Now look at me.
MICKEY2 stares blankly ahead.
Sweep rapidly back across chairs:
ARSONIST
He’s not like the rest of us. He’s had things easy his whole life. They say he was a boxer — I see nothing but a weasel, a washed up twirp.
MURDERER
He just rides the system, floating around, picking up free room and board wherever he goes. What a rat!
RAPIST
First thing he’ll do when he gets out is get himself laid, too. He’s got all them bitches lined up, just waitin for his sorry ass to come home.
COUNTERFEITER
Nobody appreciates art anymore. Artists just suffer, suffer at the hands of an ignorant, artless world.
MICKEY2 turns to look.
Dolly out, all PRISONERS turn to MICKEY2.
PRISONERS
(a chorus of incarcerated torpitude)
Get the hell out of here already, will ya?!
EXT — DOWNTOWN:
MICKEY2 approaches Jewelry Shop, enters.
INT — JEWELRY SHOP:
JEWELER stands behind glass counter, polishing with chamois.
JEWELER
May I help you?
MICKEY2
You can.
MICKEY2
(pointing to large diamond ring)
How much?
JEWELER
As much as you’re willing to pay tor it.
MICKEY2
Then I opt tor it being tor free.
JEWELER
Then why would you even want It?
MICKEY2
(show photo of redhaired LILY)
It’s for my girl, that’s why.
JEWELER
She tor free?
MICKEY2
What is? Besides, I gotta get her something, don’t I?
JEWELER
Then pay me as much as you’ve got.
MICKEY2
I got a lot.
JEWELER
Then pay me a lot.
MICKEY2
A lot of what?
JEWELER
Of whatever you’ve got.
MICKEY2
Then I won’t have anything left.
JEWELER
You’ll have your girl, won’t you?
MICKEY2
Question’s for how long.
JEWELER
How long you got?
MICKEY2
How long you got?
JEWELER
Got until I get paid what I’m worth.
MICKEY2
How much you worth?
JEWELER
More than you can pay me.
MICKEY2
Then why should I even try?
JEWELER
Wanna get something for your girl, right?
MICKEY2
Oh, I remember now. (Pause) But I don’t know if she’s worth it.
JEWELER
Then why you here?
MICKEY2
Thought I’d be good to her.
JEWELER
She good to you?
MICKEY2
Yeah and neah.
JEWELER
You think buying this would help?
MICKEY2
Couldn’t hurt.
JEWELER
(removes key from pocket)
Why should I trust you?
MICKEY2
Why the hell shouldn’t you?
JEWELER
I don’t really know you.
MICKEY2
Yeah? I don’t really know you, either.
JEWELER
Yes, but you are in my shop.
MICKEY2
That’s exactly right. Open the case.
JEWELER
Why?
MICKEY2
Because if I wanted to, I could go right ahead and smash it open.
JEWELER
Why don’t you go ahead and smash it open, then?
MICKEY2
Because you were going to open it.
JEWELER shrugs, starts to unlock case, hears “click,” stops:
MICKEY2 holds a .38 revolver against JEWELER’S temple.
JEWELER
I knew it.
MICKEY2
Then why did you do it?
JEWELER
Oh — go ahead, take. take everythin —
MICKEY2 raises gun.
JEWELER stands. arms in air.
MICKEY2
How do you know that I’m here to rob you?
JEWELER
Why else would you be pointing o gun at me?
MICKEY2
People know you as a jeweler, right?
JEWELER
Yeah, so?
MICKEY2
And jewelers have money, eh?
JEWELER
Not all of them — especially those who get robbed.
MICKEY2
(lowers gun)
You know a good value when you see one?
JEWELER
Value of what? Getting robbed?
MICKEY2
Get off that robbery kick, will ya?
JEWELER
Why are you here. then?
MICKEY2
(removes glasses)
Hi, Sonny! — Recognize me now? It’s Mickey! Mickey Moskavitz! I’m back in town!
JEWELER
Mickey? Mickey Moskavitz? Out of jail?
MICKEY2
Jail wasn’t for me. Sonny. I’m through with the art of the heist, as now I like fresh air, the smell of roses-
JEWELER
Get out! Get outta here, Mick!
MICKEY2
Awww. Sonny. What a way to treat an old friend!
JEWELER
I mean it, Mickey. No more fake stones, no more hocked jewels, no more nothing from you. Big Willie doesn’t want you around. The heist that sent you in stank, Mick — And you owe him for some old debts. You were better in the ring than you were on the track — or in the houses you robbed.
MICKEY2
Sonny! When did I ever do you wrong? So, I had a bad break — everyone does — now I’m back, and —
JEWELER
I said forget it, Mick. Go someplace else.
MICKEY2 raises gun again, and JEWELER’S arms rise again.
MICKEY2
Open the case.
JEWELER
What?
MICKEY2
The gun’s real. really loaded. Open the case.
JEWELER
But Mickey —
MICKEY2
I said open the fucking case.
JEWELER obediently stoops down again, and opens display.
MICKEY2
Now give me the keys.
JEWELER hands keys over.
MICKEY2 looks at keys, then smashes glass display case with butt of gun.
Glass crashes onto jewels.
JEWELER
— Mick!
Close up jewelry, covered with shards of glass.
MICKEY2
You tell Willie that I’m back in town, and I need work. You tell him that I’m going to find myself some, even if I have to kiss ass to that fat Jew.
JEWELER
Yeah, Mick, right. Go work for the tailor. Go fold some underwear, you stupid son of a bitch —
MICKEY2
(tossing keys back to JEWELER)
— Keep the change.
EXT — DOWNTOWN, MAIN STREET:
Rapid cross cuts between two MICKEYs walking up street, long to short shots.
Collision: MICKEYS run into each other at a corner.
MICKEYl
Oh! Excuse me.
MICKEY2
Woh! Watch where you’re going! You little twirp.
MICKEYs dance, trying to walk around each other.
MICKEY2
What’s the big idea, bug-eyes?
MICKEYl
Can’t you make up your mind?
MICKEY2
My mind’s made up — you’re in my goddamned way.
MICKEYl
I’m just trying to get from here to there.
MICKEY2
Then get from here to there someplace else. (Pause. MICKEY2 does double-take on MICKEY1) Haven’t I seen you somewhere before, punk?
MICKEYl
No. At least I hope not. I’m sorry. (Pause) I’ll go this way (pointing right), you go that way (pointing left).
MICKEY2
Don’t tell me what to do!
MICKEYl
I’m just trying to help. Oh. On. I don’t know. Sorry.
Dance continues.
White cadillac screeches up street. distracting MICKEYl.
Pan muddy water being splashed by cadillac, across MICKEYl’s clothing. MICKEYl looks sorrowfully at soiled clothing.
Pan MICKEY2’s foot, making contact with MICKEYl‘s backside. MICKEYl recoils with impact. looks over shoulder.
MICKEY2 heads up street.
MICKEYl notices muddied paper roll, dropped by MICKEY2.
Shakes head. unrolls it.
Close up: dirtied rock ’n’ roll Van Halen poster.
MICKEYl scratches head.
Continued in Part 2…
