Day 5 Assignment

[Kristina Zill]

INT. FUNERAL HOME – DAY

The room is a still life in muted colors: no windows, a closed door on either side, and furnished with two conservatively upholstered couches and a side table with black bunting. ROBERT (30s) and JOEY (50s) enter, flooding the room briefly with MAUDLIN ORGAN MUSIC coming from the main room. Silence descends instantly when Robert clicks the door shut. Every gesture of Robert’s is calculated to be soothing, giving the impression that he’s moving under water. His hair is impeccable, his black suit is well-fitted to his slim form. Joey’s tall, stocky, barrel-chested body is attired in black, but it’s a corduroy coat and nice jeans. This is a working-class guy with few occasions to dress up. Joey towers over Robert, who uses his inside voice. Joey is loud.

ROBERT
Let’s talk in here, shall we? We mustn’t upset people.

JOEY
Upset? They’re already upset. His nose was never like that. Our mother’s torn up about it.

ROBERT
I understand.

JOEY
(punching his fist in his other palm)
What you’re not understanding is, I wanna have a conversation with the guy who was in charge of the nose. Cause that there is not a reconstruction. And we paid out the nose.
(realizing his unintended pun, proud of his wit)
Huh. Yeah? And I plan to reconstruct your guy’s nose.

ROBERT
Thank you, sir. I will see if I can locate him. I’m sure we can reach an understanding.

JOEY
Don’t count on it.

Robert crosses to the other door, opposite from the ‘music’ door, and opens it.

ROBERT
If you’ll just have a seat in the grieving room. Down that hall and turn right.

JOEY
(punches a fist into his other palm)
You send him to me. I’ll deliver some grief.

ROBERT
Yes, sir. It may take a tiny moment to locate him. But I will return.

JOEY
See that you do.

Joey exits. Robert closes the door and, after a moment, quietly locks it. He paces, running his hand superficially over his perfectly coiffed hair, so as not to mess it up. TRENT (45) enters. A phrase of the MAUDLIN MUSIC seeps in till the door closes again. Trent’s blond hair is limp and shoulder length. His suit coat is black, but his garish tie is completely inappropriate for a funeral director. He opens his coat, where he has concealed a bottle of champagne.

TRENT
We did it, my man. Our one-hundredth corpse.

Trent pulls a champagne glass from each pocket of his coat.

ROBERT
What are you–? What if they were to see? Those people are in mourning!

TRENT
Somebody died. Of course, they’re mourning.

Trent pops the cork, taking delight in the mini explosion. Robert glances at the locked door—nothing. He then hurries to the other door and opens it a crack, spies out. The MAUDLIN ORGAN MUSIC plays, till Robert quietly, quietly—very Tell-Tale Heart—shuts the door again.

Trent extends a glass to Robert, who waves it away.

TRENT
C’mon, Bob.

Robert winces at ‘Bob.’

TRENT (CONT’D)
Sorry! Okay? Robert. Drink with me. Our worries are over, dude. Between the coronavirus and the reckless drivers, we’re actually gonna hit our quarterlies. C’mon, don’t make me drink alone.

ROBERT
When has being alone ever stopped you?

TRENT
Ouch. Please, Robert. Roberto. Be nice for once.

Robert considers Trent a moment, then snatches the glass and guzzles the contents.

TRENT (CONT’D)
That’s the ticket.

Robert, having appeased Trent, slaps the empty glass back in his hand and resumes pacing.

ROBERT
You say our worries are over? Desmond walked off the job yesterday.

TRENT
Which one’s he? The embalmer?

ROBERT
The cosmetologist. His paycheck bounced. I couldn’t reach you. Your phone was off?

TRENT
Cosmetologist. Those guys grow on trees. You can fill in for a few days, right?

ROBERT
It’s essentially plastic surgery! You need years of training. Desmond showed me how to apply the foundation and the rouge. That I could handle. But he’s the one who sews the mouths and eyes closed.

TRENT
Didn’t you ever mend a sock?

ROBERT
(gesturing to the ‘music’ door)
I’ve had complaints about this one’s nose job. The mother seems to feel I got it wrong, and I have a horrible, sinking feeling that here’s one situation I can’t smooth-talk my way out of.

TRENT
Bob, Bob, Bobby. The guy went through a windshield. Maybe his dear old ma should have taught him to use a seatbelt.

ROBERT
You want to go out there and say that to her?

Trent’s body language – he’s up for it. Robert waves him off and goes back to pacing. Trent smirks and pours himself another glassful. Robert stops.

ROBERT
Why did Desmond’s paycheck bounce?

TRENT
I gotta move some money around. What’s the big deal? With what we’re paying him, he’s not living paycheck-to-paycheck. Look, now that we’ve banked a hundred corpses–

ROBERT
It doesn’t matter if we “bank” a hundred corpses, or a thousand, if you’re mismanaging funds–

TRENT
I got us into a deal that’s going to make us very, exceedingly rich. We’ll be swimming in filthy lucre. We might as well change the company name to “BLING MORTICIANS.”

ROBERT
Why not use your own funds? You’ve got such deep pockets–

TRENT
It’s all tied up in investments. I needed liquid for this one–

ROBERT
So without asking me, without even mentioning it, you put our operating funds into a “deal.”
(a beat, aghast)
You’re not gambling with Bitcoin again?

TRENT
Digital gold. It’s where everything’s trending. And it’s not gambling. I just needed a little gas for the Ethereum. I got burned using a cold wallet before, so I lost a bundle. But this time around I’ve put us into Non-Fungible Tokens, my wallet’s hot and my key is private and secure.

Robert stares at him, incredulous.

ROBERT
Hot wallet. Cold wallet. Networks. Gas. And these– these– fungus–

TRENT
NFTs.

ROBERT
(snaps his fingers)
While back here on Planet Earth, we’ve got a negative bank balance and a botched nose job. Which doesn’t add up to the rosy picture you painted in your spreadsheets.

TRENT
Okay, calm down. Ya gotta hold on. Just hold on, we’ll ride this wave and come through the other side. But please don’t bail on me, Bobby boy. You’re so good at this. The way you handle those ‘rona widows. Bobby baby, it’s art, watching you work.

ROBERT
Could you please stop calling me that.

TRENT
Whatever makes you happy. It’s small stuff. You wanta sweat it? Sure, okay. But remember – we both went into this proposition with our eyes wide open. And boy howdy, I’m glad I did. Cause this industry will never be short of customers.

ROBERT
So why do I need you, exactly?

TRENT
I take it to the next level. Plus, we have a contract. You’re stuck with me, Bubs.

Robert seethes.

TRENT (CONT’D)
C’mon, I’m making you a rich man, Bob. Bobbert. So what are you gonna do? Beat me up? Or are you gonna work with me here?

ROBERT
Part of why Desmond was so furious is he saw you at the Wag-a-Bag buying a pile of scratch-off tickets.

TRENT
And you told me you caught him watching porn while he worked. So on the one hand, I’m being smart by reducing the odds for a quick-pick. And he’s being a necrophiliac–
(against Robert’s objection)
— yes, sorry, but what kind of person gets titillated while using denture adhesive to glue a skull back together? Quite frankly, we should be happy to see him go.

ROBERT
So what do I do about these people? The mother claims I turned her son into a Grotesque. That’s the term she used.

TRENT
You want me to talk to her?

ROBERT
Would you? I’m skilled at comforting people in their distress. I don’t do well when they’re angry.

TRENT
Okay, done. All I need from you is, cover our costs for just like, another week. Two, tops. Just till I can move some money around.

Robert presses his lips together in frustration.

ROBERT
In that case, I’ll need one thing more from you.

TRENT
Name it.

ROBERT
Tell the family you were the one who worked on the nose.

Trent takes a moment, recognizes a deal breaker when he sees one, so nods his agreement. He tips both the glass and the bottle into his mouth, ensuring they’re empty, then sets them down on the table. He adjusts his tie and starts towards the ‘music’ door. Robert stops him, points towards the locked door.

ROBERT
It’s the guy’s brother. Uh, Joey, I think his name is. He’s waiting “to discuss the matter of the nose reconstruction” in the Grieving Room.

TRENT
Don’t worry. By the time I get through with this guy, he’ll think we did him a favor, re-arranging that nose.

Trent tries the locked door, casts Robert a surprised look. Shrugs, unbolts it, and exits.

Robert waits a moment, then quietly locks the door again. He smiles, savoring the moment. Then he kicks into action: stashes the bottle and glasses under the black bunting, smooths his already impossibly smooth hair, assumes a tragic expression, takes a deep breath, and crosses the room to exit towards the maudlin organ music.

[George Verongos]

INT. CROWDED NOLA CLUB – MARDI GRAS – NIGHT

ROBERT sips his rum & coke, scanning the crowded club for TRENT. Trent enters the club with his unnecessarily large entourage and settles down in the VIP booth towards the back where the music isn’t too loud and they’re closer to the bathrooms for convenient bumps and fat rails. Robert makes his way through the sea of drunk tourists to Trent’s booth.

Drunks run into Robert spilling some of his drink, repeatedly. Dance music blaring.

ROBERT: (shouting over the music) Excuse me, pardon me, pardon me, excuse me.

He slips on some discarded beads on the floor, spilling the last of his drink.

Trent waves Robert back to the booth. Robert hands his empty glass to the bouncer at the VIP entrance and gives him a wink.

TRENT: Bobby, what a pleasant surprise. I’ve never seen you in here before. You don’t strike me as the kind of guy who goes clubbing.

ROBERT: I’m not usually, but Tinder dates, you know.

TRENT: And without a drink, what a shame. Come, sit, have some champagne. (To one of his minions) Pour Bobby a glass of champagne. (To a different minion) And make some room for him in the booth.

There’s a flurry of action as the entourage follows Trent’s orders.

ROBERT: No thanks. I can’t stay, Tinder date and all. I just saw you and wanted to be respectful and say hello.

Trent opens his suit jacket, showing the gun in his shoulder holster.

TRENT: I’m sure you can spare a few minutes.

ROBERT: (Looking between the gun and Trent’s face) Yeah, now’s not real good for me.

TRENT: (Through clenched teeth) Sit. Down.

Robert puts his hands up in submission and slides all the way into the booth right next to Trent, as a flute of champagne is placed in front of him.

TRENT: There, that’s better, isn’t it?

Robert takes a sip of champagne.

ROBERT: (Sarcastically) Cozy. (Smacking his lips) That tastes expensive.

TRENT: Nothing but the best.

They toast and drink.

TRENT: You know, I’m glad I ran into you.

ROBERT: You are? Under different circumstances, I would almost believe you.

TRENT: Why do you say that?

Robert stalls by taking another sip and eyes Tent’s muscle, he doesn’t see any weapons on anyone besides Tent, which makes him feel slightly better.

ROBERT: Because of yesterday’s… um, how should I put this? Misunderstanding.

TRENT: Meh, business is business. Nothing personal. (Louder for the entire entourage to hear) To Bobby! (Trent raises his glass and all follow) A useless businessman and an all-around piece of shit!

Everyone cheers and drinks not really caring what Trent said, most not even hearing, except for Robert. He’s thrown off by Trent’s odd toast and realizes he may be in danger.

ROBERT: Look, man. I did what I promised I would do; I organized the deal. What happens after that ain’t my problem.

TRENT: I’m making it your fucking problem. I told you I was good for it, and then Dragon would get all his money after I unloaded a few keys.

ROBERT: You already owe money from the last time. Mr. Dragon ain’t running a charity organization.

Trent pokes Robert through his jacket with his pistol and leans in closer.

TRENT: (Clenching his teeth, again) Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t waste you right here.

Robert pats the air with both hands.

ROBERT: Take it easy, now. You know Mr. Dragon wouldn’t like that one bit, not to mention the mess. You wouldn’t be able to show your face in here again. Hell, you’d probably have to skip town.

TRENT: (Parroting) You know Mr. Dragon wouldn’t like that, (not parroting) fuck the Dragon and fuck you too. You’re merely a pawn, Robert. A pawn doing his king’s bidding. Dragon doesn’t give a shit about you; he doesn’t even know your name. You are expendable. Face it.

Robert feels the pistol cock against his side and swallows hard.

ROBERT: Let’s just calm down a second here. I can fix this.

Robert looks sincerely into Trent’s eyes and then glances down to where the muzzle is pressed against him, then back to Trent’s eyes. Trent removes the gun from Robert’s side.

TRENT: It’s still pointed at you.

ROBERT: Alright. Just be cool. Let me text my date and cancel before she shows up—that would be awkward—then we can figure this out. Okay? (friendly)I’m gonna just get my phone out.

Trent nods and Robert carefully removed his phone and texts his Tinder date.

ROBERT: There. Now, let’s try to work it out so that you get your product, Dragon gets paid, and I don’t get a bullet to the spleen.

TRENT: I’m listening. But my patience is growing thin.

ROBERT: There would be a little bit of a compromise from both parties, so no one is going to get exactly what they want when they want it. But bonus; no one has to get shot.

TRENT: It doesn’t bother me if someone gets shot in the process. Especially if it’s you.

ROBERT: Point taken. Now, here’s what we do. I’ll call Mr. Dragon–

TRENT: (Interrupting) Call Dragon? You?

ROBERT: (Nodding) Yeah.

TRENT: You take me for a greenhorn, Bobby? No one just calls Dragon. Few people talk directly to the man and even fewer know who he is. There is no fucking way a punk like you would ever have the ear of a man like Dragon.

ROBERT: That’s true, only his three bodyguards know who he is and rumor has it they all carry cyanide pills in their pinky rings in case someone tries to make them talk.

TRENT: Loyalty. I like that.

ROBERT: But, I can make some calls and get messages to him.

TRENT: And what are you going to tell him?

ROBERT: I’ll ask him that if you pay what you already owe him, then he’ll front you half of the stuff to sell. Then all you do is sell that half and then pay for the current shipment and then he releases the other half to you.

TRENT: Why the fuck would he do that?

ROBERT: You guys have been doing business a long time. He’ll respect that. And this is easier than him being out all the money you owe him and having to deal with you, or at least your body because he would have to make an example out of you.

TRENT: Even if Dragon agrees to it, where am I gonna get that kind of money without any dope to sell?

ROBERT: Loan?

TRENT: Pfft. I knew you were full of shit. Sharks are for chum, like low-life addicts and compulsive gamblers.

ROBERT: But it would only be for a few days, right? You could unload half and pay him back in 72 hours. Fat Tony owes me a favor, I could use it to keep the interest low.

TRENT: You’d do that for me. Why?

ROBERT: I’d do it to keep from getting shot.

Trent takes his hand out of his jacket, sips his warm champagne, and ponders this compromise. Robert watches Trent closely.

ROBERT: I’ll try to get a message to Dragon first since it may take a little while. Then I’ll call Fat Tony.

Trent starts to nod his head.

TRENT: Okay, alright. But you do realize, if this doesn’t fly, I’m gonna have to shoot you. Business is business.

ROBERT: Right, you said that already. But yeah, business is business.

Robert acts matter-of-fact and sends his texts, glancing at Trent’s muscle, and scanning the crowd.

ROBERT: Alright. Hopefully, we’ll get word from Mr. Dragon soon. Now we just wait.

There is a very beautiful but very DRUNK WOMAN on the other side of Trent. She mumbles incoherently across the table.

TRENT: What’s that, baby?

DRUNK WOMAN: (Shouting) Gimme a bump, Daddy, I could really use it.

TRENT: Later. Let the big boys talk.

Robert couldn’t help himself. He leans over to talk into Trent’s ear.

ROBERT: Ohhhh, they don’t know you’re out of dope, do they. Tisk tisk. And here I thought they hung around you for your magnetic personality.

TRENT: Shut the fuck up, Bobby. The odds of you getting shot tonight just went up.

ROBERT: Here.

He pushes a small Ziploc baggie of white powder in front of Trent. Trent looks at him incredulously.

TRENT: What’s this for?

ROBERT: To keep the plebs happy, especially the hot ones.

Trent almost smiles.

TRENT: Hey, here.

Trent tosses the baggie in front of the drunk woman.

TRENT: Now shut the fuck up.

She ignores him and stumbles her way to the bathroom. Robert’s phone lights up with a text, he reads it.

TRENT: Well?

ROBERT: My guy left a message for Dragon; it shouldn’t be too long.

A server refills their glasses.

Trent nods and then scrolls through his phone. As the silence grows more awkward, he starts second guessing himself. Robert’s phone lights up with a text.

ROBERT: Mr. Dragon agrees.

Trent tries to hide his elation.

TRENT: Impressive. (Raising his glass) To Bobby, for coming through.

No one heard him, but everyone cheers and drinks.

ROBERT: Hey, what do ya say we go to the little boys’ room and sample some of the shipment you’re gonna get?

TRENT: (Friendlier) You’re just full of good ideas tonight, Bobby. After you, my friend.

They slide out of the booth and Trent tells his thugs to stay put as he follows Robert past the VIP bouncer and through the crowd to the bathroom. The music is to loud to talk, so they walk in silence.

INT. MEN’S ROOM – A FEW MINUTES LATER

Robert enters the bathroom followed by Trent. As soon as Trent is in the bathroom, he hears the door lock behind him and feels cold steal against his temple.

GUNMAN: Hands up. Nice and easy. No sudden moves.

Trent looks at Robert who has his arms above his head already.

TRENT: You got the wrong guy, buddy. Do you know who you’re fucking with?

GUNMAN: I said hands up, nice and slow, Trent.

ROBERT: I guess he does know who he’s fucking with.

Trent gives Robert a if-looks-could-kill look and raises his hands. Robert just shrugs, hands still in the air.

GUNMAN: (To Robert) You there. Reach into his jacket and take out the weapon. And no funny business.

Robert slowly moves toward Trent, noticing the sweat mustache that has appeared above Trent’s lip. He gingerly takes the gun from the holster, holding it with his thumb and forefinger like it’s a dead mouse.

GUNMAN: Put it on the floor.

Robert does as he says and puts his hands back up.

TRENT: What the fuck, why didn’t you do something? You had a fucking gun in your hand.

GUNMAN: Shut the fuck up.

The Gunman presses the barrel into Trent’s temple even harder.

Two stall doors open and out walk two huge, overly muscled mountains of men licking their lips like hungry wolves and punching their own palms. Before Trent can say a word, one of the guys steps into a right hook sending Trent stumbling back a few steps.

TRENT: Goddamnit…

Trent recovers and shakes his head to clear it.

TRENT: Who the fuck are you guys?

GUNMAN: I said shut the fuck up.

He cracks Trent in the head with the side of his gun. Trent winces but stays quiet.

GUNMAN: What do you want us to do with him, boss? Kill ‘em?

ROBERT: (Lowers hands) No, he still owes me from the last shipment.

Trent looks up at Robert in shock, as a bead of blood rolls from the corner of his mouth.

TRENT: You? YOU! You’re Dragon?

ROBERT: Guilty.

TRENT: But all that bullshit out there… you were just toying with me? Fuck me. You didn’t even have a date.

Robert’s phone rings. He holds up a finger to Trent and answers.

ROBERT: Hey, how you doing, beautiful?

(phone chatter)

ROBERT: I know, babe. I’ll pick you up in twenty.

(phone chatter)

ROBERT: Alright. We’ll meet at Café Du Monde. See ya soon.

Robert hangs up.

ROBERT: Sorry, Tinder dates. (He shrugs) They like to meet in public. Anyway, I must be going. Gentlemen, have fun.

Trent gets out of Robert’s way as he walks to the door.

TRENT: Wait, Bobby, er I mean Mr. Dragon. What about our deal?

ROBERT: (To his thugs) Do whatever you boys want with him, but he has a meeting with Fat Tony in an hour, so he has to be able to walk and talk.

TRENT: (Near tears) Mr. Dragon, wait, please.

ROBERT: Sorry Trent. Nothing personal, business is business.

Robert exits the bathroom just as the violence erupts and disappears into the crowd.

[Kristina Zill]

Moved this critique to Day 6, where it belonged.

[Edward Lusk]

EXT. GREEN HOUSE – NIGHT

The facility is massive. Acres and acres under glass. An eerie fuchsia glow pierces the fog from the growing lights below. From above the glass looking down we see a man walking up an aisle surrounded by thousands of colorful orchid blooms.

Ahead of him, another man slow dances to an unheard beat.

INT. GREEN HOUSE – AISLE – NIGHT

The dancing man is ROBERT, 20’s, he sings to himself, almost humming, to a soulful jazz song broadcasting through his head phones. He blends into the fields, wearing green coveralls. He waters the orchid using a watering wand. Robert brings the wand to his mouth like a microphone and sings.

ROBERT

You’re so fine to be mine in the Cali sunshine, baby…

From behind marches our walking man, TRENT, 20’s out of place in a tailored suit and tie. No time to smell the flowers, his steps are deliberate and wide. Robert has no idea he’s got a visitor.

Trent arrives, taps on Roberts shoulder, a hard two fingered tap, like knocking on a door.

Robert twirls. The watering wand sends a stream of water over Trent’s head. Robert’s face lights up. He laughs a hearty belly guffaw. Trent recoils, brushing away any droplets. He readjust his tie and suit, adjusting his perfect hair as best he can.

TRENT

Watch it asshole. This is a twenty five hundred dollar suit.

ROBERT

Mi Amigo!

Robert shuts off the water. A loud slap of a high five followed by a bear hug. Trent pulls away quickly. Robert looks around the greenhouse.

ROBERT

No one saw you come in?

TRENT

No one that can’t be bought off.

ROBERT

I’ve heard you have a knack for cleaning things up.

TRENT

Yeah, who?

Trent surveys the area including under the tables. They’re the only two people in the middle of the orchid fields.

TRENT

(lowers his voice)

You have the money?

Robert flashes an envelope tucked into his coveralls.

TRENT

That’s my boy. Is there a place we can talk? It’s like a hundred degrees in here. My suit going to wrinkle.

ROBERT

My office, a constant seventy two degrees. Come, we will be safe there.

Four steps into their walk the lights start snapping off. Field by field the grow lamps go dark. Darkness envelopes them.

TRENT

What the fuck?

ROBERT


Relax Bro. They’re all on timers. Just be be cool.

EXT. GREEN HOUSE – OFFICE – NIGHT

The modular office sits at the axis of four the fields. A air conditioner mounted in the wall HUMS. The office lights cast mini-blind shadows across the flowers. Robert and Trent arrive. Robert opens the door motioning for Trent to enter with an overly exaggerated bow and sweep of the hand.

Trent walks by Robert with a fixed judgmental glare.

INT. GREEN HOUSE – OFFICE – NIGHT

Trent looks over the place. A mishmash of computer terminals, gardening tools, lab equipment and ever present soil dust. Robert wipes he hands over his overalls. Then places them inside his pockets.

ROBERT

When I told Amoreena we had a deal she nearly fainted.

TRENT

Amoreena can’t be trusted. I don’t want you talking to her, or anyone else without my say so. We’re in the big leagues now. Understand?

Robert looks down at his boots. Kicks some dirt off.

ROBERT

Yea. Got it. Hey you want a beer? I keep some hidden in the back room.

TRENT

Let’s just get this over with. I need to get out of here. How can you stand that smell? It’s like bathing in cheap perfume. Robert sniffs the air. He laughs.

ROBERT

What I smell is a rat.

TRENT

Excuse me?

ROBERT

Amoreena said you are the one who can’t be trusted. She says you drink and run your mouth all over town.

TRENT

You leave Amoreena to me. I’ll fix that bitch.

There’s a THUD heard from the back room.

TRENT

Who’s that? You said we’re alone.

ROBERT

Probably our office cat. Don’t worry about it.

TRENT

Bullshit.

Trent marches off to the back room. He flings open the back room door. It’s dark.

INT. GREEN HOUSE – OFFICE – BACK ROOM – NIGHT

Trent steps in. He peer into the shadows.

TRENT

Who’s here?

Out of the darkness a five gallon tin watering can clocks Trent over the head with a resounding DONG. Trent staggers for a second, dazed. Before Trent recovers, he’s upper cut by a shovel. The smack sends crashing into a stacks of growing trays. He slinks down to the floor.

From the shadows emerges a stylish dressed, older women. She struts towards the open door, where Robert stands.

ROBERT

Amoreena, you are a bitch.

[Amechi Ngwe]

INT. WAREHOUSE – NIGHT

Robert, in a t-shirt and jeans, and Trent in an expensive suit, clink champagne flutes together.

Trent looks at his flute, studying the drink. He smells it.

TRENT
Which one is this? It tastes a little funny.

ROBERT
You have such a great palate. They all taste the same to me.

Robert takes another sip. Trent sips again. Winces a little.

ROBERT
You’re used to better stuff than we can bottle.

TRENT
No, I love it. Believe me.

ROBERT
I still can’t believe you made this happen. Us selling champagne.

Robert pulls a silver cigarette lighter from his pocket and flicks it open. He closes it again.

TRENT
What?! I couldn’t have done this without you.

ROBERT
A slob like me, co-owning a champagne business. People still laugh when I tell them I’m doing this.

TRENT
You know more about this than you’re letting on I hope. I can’t keep this thing afloat without you.

ROBERT
Speaking of that, I’ve sunk a lot of money into this—

TRENT
Hey, I told you, the money won’t roll in right away.

ROBERT
Can I see the books? A bank statement? We’re partners. I don’t like being in the dark.

TRENT
I told you I’d handle the money side, you’ll be the face of this. Sell to your friends.

ROBERT
I’m not asking too much, am I? It’s just I have a friend who wants to buy a few cases and want to see if we can give him a discount.

TRENT
You did? Wow.

ROBERT
Yeah. Let’s go to the back and load up my car.

Robert doesn’t wait for a reply. He glides to the door and enters the back room.

Trent is sweaty. He reaches into his jacket pocket, pulling out A KNIFE. He moves it to his hip pocket and follows.

INT. BACK ROOM – CONTINUOUS

Travis enters. He coughs into his hand.
Robert stands near a table, he plays with the lighter.

TRAVIS
Robert. The truth is… and please don’t tell anyone. It’s gone.

ROBERT
What’s gone?

TRAVIS
The money. All your money. Do you think this is easy, running a business?

ROBERT
I’ve been telling my friends that this was going great.

TRENT
That’s good. We have to project success.

ROBERT
Do I have to tell people what you really are?

TRENT
You don’t have to do that.

Trent hides his hand in his pocket as he closes on Robert. He wipes his sweaty brow.

TRENT
Look, there’s a way to get your money back.

ROBERT
Oh yeah?

TRENT
I find other investors. We sell them the dream. We pocket their money.

ROBERT
You think I’m capable of that?

TRENT
You’re capable of more than you think. I can give you a game plan. The same one I use.

ROBERT
The one you used on me.

Trent closes on Robert. His hand goes into his pocket. He puts a hand on Robert’s shoulder—

Trent coughs violently. The knife clatters to the floor. Robert turns and watches Trent pull at his collar.

TRENT
Robert… help. I can’t… breathe…

Robert sees the knife on the floor. He moves to Trent’s side.

ROBERT
It’s okay. Lay down.

Robert helps Trent lie on his back.

ROBERT
I was wondering when it was going to kick in.

Trent’s eyes go wide with a thousand questions, but his body is paralyzed.

ROBERT
Shhh. You’re right, I am capable of more than I think. Thanks for bringing it out of me.

TRENT
(Weakly)
Please… Help…

ROBERT
Your drink was spiked with a couple of powerful paralyzing agents. Breathing is about all you can do for now.

Trent can’t speak. His eyes start to flutter closed. Robert slaps Trent’s face hard.

ROBERT
Oh, don’t leave yet. I want to thank you.

Trent’s breathing slows.

ROBERT
You took advantage of a weak friend and sold him a lie. But I made sure people knew how much the stress of this business was getting to you. Our friends are getting concerned.

ROBERT
Not me though. I have an insurance policy on this building and… a life insurance policy. On You.

Robert waves a hand in front of Trent’s face. No response.

ROBERT
Are you still there?

Trent gurgles.

ROBERT
Sure, one final drink. And you’ll never take advantage of another person. Cheers!

Robert pours the rest of the bottle of champagne over Trent’s face.

Then kicks him repeatedly in the ribs.

Trent isn’t moving.

Robert looks over at a gas canister sitting on the table. He flicks open his lighter.

END OF SCENE

[gary Weskrna]

INT. BALLROOM OF A SUPER YACHT – NEW YEARS EVE

The dance floor is pack with super rich reverie seekers all poised for the countdown.

3…2…1…Midnight!

Corks pop, streamers fly and noise makers are blown. Everyone kisses someone.

Robert grabs Melissa and kisses her deeply. She struggles and pulls away.

Melissa

What the hell Robert!

ROBERT

Don’t you know? Trent and I share everything, equally.

MELISSA

Not me!

Robert shrugs.

ROBERT

Not yet, maybe.

Melissa storms off.

Robert smirks. Finishes his flut of champagne.

Trent pushes his way through the crowd to Robert. Grabs him.

TRENT

We have to talk! In private!

ROBERT

Lead the way, el’ capitan.

INT. STORAGE CABIN BELOW DECK – SAME

Trent slams the bulkhead door behind him.

TRENT

What were you thinking?

ROBERT

I think about a lot of things, you’re going to have to be more specific —

TRENT

— the Greek deal? Shipping? Ring a bell?

ROBERT

Oh that? That didn’t quite turn out like we had hoped.

TRENT

Jesus, Robert! I spent 2 years of my life, meticulously glad handing that deal and you cratered it in less than an afternoon.

ROBERT

Yes, well no use crying over spilled euros.

TRENT

(dawning on him)

You did it on purpose?

ROBERT

Did I? I don’t really remember what —

TRENT

(changing subject)

— what did you say to Melissa? Tonight. What did you say to her. She was upset but she wouldn’t tell me?

ROBERT

I may have innocently suggested that I thought she could do better in the boyfriend department. And humbly offered my services —

Trent’s fist slams into Roberts’s face. Robert falls back into a pile of Perrier water.

TRENT

I want you off my boat, out of my boardroom and gone from my life.

Trent storms out of the cabin leaving Robert there.

ROBERT

(to himself)

Sorry, but I don’t think I can do that old friend.

[Judith Watson]

INT. BEAT UP BUILDING – NIGHT

A boxing ring surrounded by a crowd of PEOPLE. The room is noisy, full of hisses and boos when folks don’t like what is going on.

It’s the final round. The boxers punch and beat and whip at each other. One goes down, then the other.

ROBERT, 25, searches the people entering the building. He spots his friend, TRENT, 37, waves at him. Rushes from his seat.

ROBERT

Thought you weren’t gonna make it, man. The fights almost over with.

TRENT

Yah, yah, yah.

Taken aback, Robert indicates to Trent to follow him.

ROBERT

You okay?

TRENT

Some jerk spilled beer on me. Look at these clothes. There are ruined.

Trent brushes off the invisible stain.

They proceed down the aisle toward the ring seats. The crowd frantic now rooting for their favorite boxer.

Following Robert, Trent peeks behind and sees the SPILLER BEER GUY following them. Trent gets more and more irritated thinking this guy is after him. He stops. Glares.

TRENT

Get the fuck out of here.

The Spiller Beer Guy throws up his hands in surrender. Trent moves toward him, but Robert gently pulls him back.

ROBERT

It ain’t worth it.

Trent nods and continues to follow Robert, but the Spiller Beer Guy continues. Trent steams, Robert shakes his head and Trent follows.

They get to their row and Trent proceeds forward. Sits. Robert follows and the beer guy follows him.

Plops down right next to Trent.

Tensing his jaw, Trent, groans. Robert notices his reaction.

ROBERT

Let’s change seats.

Trent gets up to exchange seats, but before he moves, he pretends to accidently nudge the beer guy. He doesn’t respond. Keeps his cool.

Robert plops down next to beer guy.

ROBERT

My friend, a temper. I’m Robert.

Beer guy thinks better than to introduce himself when he sees a glare from Trent.

Just then a roar from the crowd. Trent sees his favorite winning the match.

The crowd scrambles to their feet. Some tear up betting papers. Others leave.

TRENT

Got money on Big Barber Brute.

He pulls out his winning ticket.

ROBERT

Whens you get that?

TRENT

That’s where I got spilled on.

Robert shakes Trent’s hand as the beer guy moves past them.

Everything is claustrophobic. The exit crowd, noisey.

When the men get to the top of the stairs, Trent pulls Robert aside.

TRENT

Surprise. You get to meet the winner of the match, Big Barber Brute.

ROBERT

What?

TRENT

We were college room mates.

ROBERT

Wow, do I look okay?

INT. BACK ROOM – NIGHT

Trent enters a dark room. Robert follows after him, but before he’s ten feet in, a hand reaches out and smacks him squarely in the jaw.

Trent stands there watching his friend get beaten up.

Robert tries to punch back, but Trent takes his arms and holds them. The AGGRESSOR beats on Robert till his face is bloody. He’s loosing consciousness.

Trent lets go of his arms and Robert collapses onto the floor.

Robert looks at him with a why expression on his face.

Trent ignores him and flips on the lights. He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a wad of bills. The Beer Guy steps into the light. He puts out his hand and Trent pays him off.

Beer Guy leaves.

Saying nothing to Robert, Trent pulls out a photo from his wallet. He tears it up and throws it on top of Robert. The pieces flutter down onto his chest revealing the picture of a pretty brunette.

Trent leaves.

[Sandra Sandra Nelles Nelles]

Lesson 5: Sandra’s QE Cycle #1: Write this Scene

INT. UPSCALE BAR – NIGHT

TRENT, meticulously groomed and dressed in an expensive suit, sits at a crowded bar. Next to him is ROBERT, in wrinkled shirt and pants with messy hair.

Robert turns and waves at the bartender. Speaks to the average looking ladies next to him.

ROBERT

Hello ladies. How are you doing tonight? Looks like you could use another drink.

TRENT (slams his fist on the bar and yells at the bartender)

Hey, what do we have to do to get a drink?

Bartender comes over and takes their orders.

ROBERT

I heard some interesting things about Darlene. Why’d you want to meet here tonight?

TRENT

Since you are my best friend, I wanted to celebrate my engagement and ask you to be my best man.

ROBERT

Congratulations! That’s great. You’re lucky she’s such a beautiful and classy gal. Someone like her would never go for a guy like me. Have you set a date?

Bartender brings their drinks and spills a little of Trent’s on the bar. Trent wipes it up with a napkin. Tosses the crumbled-up napkin behind the bar. They clink glasses.

TRENT

Not yet. So where were you last night? Tried calling and left messages.

ROBERT (shrugs, looks down and stirs his drink)

Did you hear Darlene is running a big scam? We should check it out.

Trent looks at his expensive watch, then glances around.

TRENT (whispers in Robert’s ear)

You interested in a poker game tonight?

ROBERT

Sure.

TRENT (finishes his drink)

Follow me.

Robert slugs down the rest of his drink. Pays for the drinks.

Trent swiftly strides down the hall past the restrooms with Robert ambling behind him. Robert knocks on the door marked “Employees Only”, and uses a key card to unlock the door. Motions Robert to go in first. Trent closes the door. Two thugs appear and beat up Robert.

[Maureen Tilyou]

EXT. A PEACEFUL MOUNTAIN LAKE – SUNSET

– A rowboat rocks gently at a dock. Nocturnal Flowers open their petals for the night.

– A stealthy cat stalks a chipmunk nibbling forgotten crumbs at the edge of the dock. The chipmunk looks up curiously as the SOUND OF LIVE MUSIC floats over from across the lake.

– The cat, focused and now very close, readies to pounce. WHAP! SCREECH! The talons of a HAWK close around the cat and lift. The chipmunk scurries away as the cat is carried up into the darkening sky.

The dock is silent except for the STRAINS OF MUSIC from across the way.

EXT. LUXURY MOUNTAIN RETREAT – CONTINUOUS

MUSIC filters out the gracious double front door. Excited greetings float to and fro as late guests park their cars and drift in under a large banner: CONGRATULATIONS ROB!

INT. LUXURY MOUNTAIN RETREAT – CONTINUOUS

The well-dressed crowd throngs and mingles. A high end wedding band plays a dated Pop song.

ROB, Tall, handsome, a charmer, works the crowd, shaking hands, kissing cheeks and fielding complements as he goes.

ROB

Thanks so much… Good to see you, Man!… Ya, such a surprise. I’m so honored… Love that dress!

PASSING SHORT GUY

Congrats, Rob. Hear about Betty?

ROB

I heard the rumor. Hard to believe, but who knows.. If it’s true..

SHORT GUY

(moving on)

There will be consequences.

Rob seems to gloat as he takes a step back to bask in it all- and bumps into someone. He turns-

ROB

So sorry– Wow! You’re here! I never expected-

JULIA

Yet here I am!

They exchange cheek kisses.

ROBERT

Really nice of you to come!

(awkward beat)

I guess I didn’t think you’d ever forgive me.

JULIA

Can’t hold a grudge forever!

She smiles at him, sipping the last of her cocktail.

ROBERT

Let me freshen that up for you.

With an easy finesse, he takes her empty glass, sets it down on the tray of a passing waiter, picks up a new drink and hands it to her with a cocked head.

JULIA

Why thank you!

(sips)

To be completely honest, it took awhile. Forgiving you. You know I had a crush on you. More than a crush, I really had a thing for you. That made it hard.

ROBERT

(genuinely surprised)

Wow! I wished I’d known that. If we’re being honest..

(laughs, embarrassed)

This is tough…I always thought you were out of my league.

JULIA

Talk about cross purposes! Too bad things ended up the way they did.

ROB

Maybe we can change that.

ACROSS THE ROOM-

TRENT, well built and impeccably dressed, converses with a huddle of people. He sneaks a checks in a nearby mirror and straightens his tie.

TRENT

It should go like clockwork. Planned it to the letter. In fact, I have a last minute check with the manager..

He starts across the room and stops, seeing a stunning Woman in red smile at him from near the buffet. He walks over.

TRENT

Evelyn! I didn’t know you were going to be here. I’m chuffed.

EVELYN

Amanda called. Thought I’d want to know. She was right. I wouldn’t miss it for the world!

TRENT

Well, thank you, Amanda.

A couple pass by. The GUY puts a hand on Trent’s shoulder.

GUY

Thanks for footing the bill on this, Man. What a night!

TRENT

No biggy. What’s money for?

GUY

So when’s the real party starting?

TRENT

Another hour to go.

WOMAN

(as they move away)

I’m on pins and needles.

TRENT

Me too.

(stares across at Rob)

Till then, we’ll just have to settle for the pleasure of watching the lamb fatten up for his slaughter.

EVELYN

You’re so naughty!

TRENT

Are you kidding? This guy is such a creep. I’ve wanted his ass forever!

EVELYN

Think he suspects?

TRENT

Not a clue!

EVELYN

Revenge is so sexy, isn’t it?

TRENT

Indeed it is.

Someone bumps them and Trent’s spinach hors d’oeuvre drops on his shirt front.

TRENT

Ugh! Damn! Idiot! I just had this shirt dry cleaned!

EVELYN

Here, let me take care of that.

She picks up a napkin and a bottle of club soda from the buffet bar and, moving in close, goes to work on his shirt.

EVELYN

This feels like old times.

TRENT

So how do I look? Still sexy?

EVELYN

You look succulent enough to just sink my teeth into…

TRENT

Why did we break up?

EVELYN

Should we go someplace where you can take this off, and I can work on it better. We have time, don’t we?

TRENT

Sure. Wouldn’t want to show for the big moment with spinach on my shirt.

EVELYN

As opposed to egg on your face?

She smiles, takes his hand and leads him across the room.

INT. PRIVATE STUDY – MOMENTS LATER

The study door opens and Trent and Evelyn enter. Evelyn takes off Trent’s shirt and discards it pointedly on a table. Trent flexes his bare chest muscles, glancing down briefly to admire them. Evelyn sighs with approval.

She strokes his chest. They giggle. Her hands travel downward, undoing his belt. Continuing downward once more, she steals a glance at Trent’s watch…

EVELYN

(purring)

Oooouuu, it’s time. Come to Mama.

They kiss hungrily, going at each other, clothes flying. Evelyn pushes Trent up against the wall. A false panel turns, spinning them into-

INT. A MINI STADIUM ROOM WITH A FIGHT RING – CONTINUOUS

A huge room with a ring in the middle with entrances on two sides. A crowd cheers as Evelyn and a stupefied Trent, now in his tightie whities, appear through the false door. Evelyn deftly sidesteps through a gate in the fence and joins the crowd, who all hold cattle prods. Someone gives her one.

TRENT

What the f- But it’s not time yet!

EVELYN

We pushed the schedule up a bit.

TRENT

But Rob- he’s not even here!

Rob springs through a similar door across the room making out with Julie, who follows Evelyn’s lead and joins the crowd retrieving her cattle-prod.

Rob looks around at all the guests at the party, hooting and catcalling. He tries to get back into the room but the door has closed. He tries to follow Julie, but several cattle prods push him toward the middle of the rink.

Trent paces around the circle- a caged animal, wild angry eyes make contact with all the faces who were playing him up earlier, anger building with every set of eyeballs he meets.

Rob sees Trent’s rage and backs up into a cattle prod.

ROB

Aghhhh!

A primal scream wells up inside Trent and releases itself. His movement around the circle suddenly shifts toward-

POV ROB

As the raging hulk races toward him and a fist torpedos into his face with a WACK!

FADE TO BLACK as FIGHT AND CATCALLS SOUNDTRACK CONTINUES OVER END CREDITS

[Ed Preston]

EXT. WEST HOLLYWOOD AUTO BROKERS, SUNNY SOCAL AFTERNOON

Two salesmen, ROBERT and Arlen (LENNY) at their desks in the half-mobile-home that serves as an office. The lot isn’t particularly large, every vehicle is visible from the office. They cater both to people seeking basic transportation and the elite of Beverly Hills, as evidenced by the dozen or so distinctive vehicles in the corner.

LENNY

Trent’s coming by soon. Says he’s got a line on a primo ‘74 Pantera like Brad’s been looking for.

ROBERT

I’ll believe it when I see it. He’s always dropping names. Did he tell you his Leno story yet? Him and Jay are like this (holds up his crossed fingers).

A flawless black Oldsmobile Silhouette minivan enters the lot, driven by TRENT, 40, single, handsome, fit, tanned, impeccably coiffed, a bit David Beckham-ish, Brit accent.

LENNY

And here he is now.

ROBERT

Ooh, and driving (waves his hands like he’s impressed) “The Cadillac of minivans”. Funny how a farty old minivan becomes a classy ride just because it looks like the one in Get Shorty.

LENNY

It is the one from Get Shorty.

ROBERT

Of course it is.

The door opens and Trent enters, sporting a Zimm Filmz hat.

ROBERT

Hey look, it’s Gene Hackman, I mean Harry Zimm! How’s the film business Harry?

Trent plays along, like a celebrity caught in public, removes the hat and runs his fingers through his hair.

TRENT

Film biz is fine, deals cookin’ all the time… but today it’s cars. Specifically, an Aston DB9. Tony Hopkins wants one and you got one.

LENNY

Bring him down!

ROBERT

Yeah, bring him down. Or he’s welcome to come on his own.

TRENT

You know these big Hollywood stars, hate going out in public, and a lot of ‘em expect to be cheated ‘cause they’re rich. They like to deal one-on-one with somebody they know personally, someone they trust. No offense.

ROBERT

None taken. So your pal Tony wants a DB9 but won’t come look at this one. How’s that gonna work?

TRENT

Simple, I’ll take it to him this afternoon. How much you got in it?

LENNY

That’s classified, Rico says we gotta get $110k for it, minimum.

TRENT

Rico’s the manager, so what he says, goes. Tell Rico I can get him $120k. Anything over that I get to keep. Tony’ll come here, you do the paperwork, and, Bob’s your uncle, money on our pockets! How’s that sound?

ROBERT

Hang on.

Robert steps outside to make a call.

TRENT

I’d buy it myself, cash on the barrel, if there was room for another car in the old stable.

LENNY

Maybe Jay would let you keep it in his garage?

TRENT

Jay? If he started doing that for his friends his garage would be chock-a-block with “collections”.

Robert steps back in, heads for the key box on the wall.

ROBERT

Rico says you can take it for the day, but…

Robert removes a set of keys and tosses them to Trent.

ROBERT

…just between you and me, I think he’ll be real disappointed if this deal doesn’t go through. Plates are on it. Anything happens to that car…

Trent flips the keys into his pocket and plops the hat back on his head.

TRENT

No worries, mate. Oh, and The Cadillac of Minivans? keys are in it. Don’t sell it while I’m gone.

ROBERT

Not a chance…

Trent is already out the door.

Several hours pass. Sun’s low. Robert and Larry are at their desks doing paperwork. The door of the office opens and in walk Rico and two tough Chicanos.

RICO

Your friend Trent. Have you heard from him?

ROBERT

Not since he left with the DB9. And he’s not my friend.

RICO

Alright. Trent-who’s-not-your-friend is in trouble.

Robert suddenly looks very nervous.

ROBERT

What kind of trouble?

RICO

There’s a GPS on that car, the one he took. He never went to Tony Hopkins’ house.

ROBERT

Maybe they met somewhere else..?

RICO

Not unless Tony’s a 25yr old bleach-blonde surfer girl and they had lunch at a hip new sushi place on Sunset Strip and then a cozy motel on Laguna Beach. I had a feeling and had a PI follow him. That cost me money and I hate wasting money.

Rico’s phone rings. He answers. The conversation is very short.

RICO

He’ll be here soon. Bring him to the back room when he gets here. Tell him we have something special for him. Neither one of you leave.

Rico and the two silent Chicanos go to the windowless back room, usually reserved for lunch and private deals. Robert and Lenny each sit at their desks, tense as cats at a dog show, unable to return to their work. A minute later they hear the unmistakable growl of an Aston Martin V12 as it enters the lot and stops outside the office. Trent bounds up the stairs and enters.

TRENT

Greetings, gents! Still here, eh? Love that, love to see dedication. Maybe I’ll have you work for me someday!

Silence for a moment, then…

ROBERT

Did you make a deal with Tony? I see you’ve come alone.

TRENT

Deal? Pretty close I think. He really liked the car though. Loved it.

Robert stands and moves towards the back room.

ROBERT

Guess who’s here? Rico. He’d love to hear how it went today. He’s right here in the party room.

Robert opens the door. Rico booms out pleasantly:

RICO

Trent, mi amigo! Come in, tell me all about today!

Trent strides in, all smiles. One of Rico’s “associates” sticks his head in the room and says…

ASSOCIATE 1

You guys screw. Rico will call you tomorrow.

The back room door closes. Lenny hastily gathers his paperwork in a pile and shoves it in the desk.

LENNY

Don’t nobody got to tell me twice.

Robert and Lenny exit the office as thumps and shouts erupt from the back room.

[Paul McGregor]

Paul’s scene.

Cherchez la femme!

INT. MANHATTAN FIVE-STAR HOTEL ROOM

TRENT is celebrating his birthday with a big party. The room is packed with guests. In one corner, ROBERT, smartly dressed, is entertaining a small group with his witty remarks.

ROBERT
And then she tells me she knows this super-rich guy. She wouldn’t tell me his name.

GUEST 1
Hey, it could be someone in this room! The group giggles.

ROBERT
Doubt it. She also said he was very smart!

The group bursts out laughing. Trent wants to be in on the fun and strolls over to where Robert is holding court.

ROBERT (CONT’D)
If ever I find out who this guy is!

TRENT

What was her name?

ROBERT
Oh, hi Trent! Great party!

TRENT
I said, what was her name?

ROBERT (Looking at the other guests)

I always told her, whatever goes on in my apartment, stays in my apartment.

More giggles from the group.

TRENT
She must have had something to hide.

ROBERT
Hide? Anne-Marie?… Oops! I guess the secret’s out!

He takes another sip of his drink while the group bursts out laughing again. Trent walks away to join his group of intimate friends.

TRENT
(Whispers into the ear of a TALL GUY with broad shoulders)
Take him to the bedroom.

The Tall Guy moves over to Robert’s group while Trent resumes chatting with his friends.

TALL GUY (Taking Robert by the elbow)

Why don’t you come over here, Mr Nichols. Mr Sharpe has some very fine wines you might be interested in.

The Tall Guy leads Robert towards the bedroom.

TRENT
(Flattered by the special treatment)

Only for the connoisseurs, right?

INT. HOTEL BEDROOM.

Three toughs are standing around a chair in front of the dresser. Tall Guy pushes Trent into the chair.

TRENT And the wine?

Tall Guy whacks Trent across the head and he falls to the ground. One of the three heavies picks him back up and shoves him back on the chair.

TALL GUY
(Talking to the heavies)

OK. Get it out.

One of the heavies opens a big, black hold-all, and extracts a big box with electric cables. He plugs a cable into the wall-plug.

ROBERT
Hey! What’s going on here? What have I done?!

One of the heavies straps wires to his arms as another binds him to the chair.

INT. HOTEL ROOM.
Trent looks at his watch.

TRENT
(To his small group of friends)

You’ll excuse me a moment.

Trent strolls over to the bedroom.

INT. HOTEL BEDROOM.

Trent quickly takes charge of the situation. He signals to one of the heavies who turns on the electric charge. Robert screams, but the Tall Guy quickly stuffs a gag into his mouth. Trent struggles and squirms till the current is switched off.

TRENT
So, where can I find Anne-Marie?

ROBERT
Anne-Marie? What’s she got to do with anything?

Trent signals to switch on the current again. Robert goes into horrendous spasms, till Trent signals to stop.

TRENT
Was the question not clear?

Before, Robert can respond, there’s a knock at the door. Trent signals to Tall Man to go see who it is. He opens the door and lets TRENT’S ASSISTANT enter. He goes straight to Trent and whispers in his ear.

TRENT’S ASSISTANT
It’s the Hotel Manager. He says the bill has got to be paid, Now!

Trent turns to leave the bedroom.

TRENT
Something has come up. Stick with it. Find out where that bitch is!

Trent exits the room with his Assistant while the Heavies renew the torture.

END

[Daniel Turner]

Daniel Turner’s #5

EXT. FORD CAR DEALERSHIP – NIGHT

Two salesmen, ROBERT and TRENT, are standing at the entrance of the dealership. Its just past dusk after a busy sunny day at the dealership.

ROBERT

Yessir, what a day. Whats that, another hat trick for you? How many is it this month? This week?

TRENT

Three, yeah, three.

ROBERT

Well done my man. Whats that, 9 cars in just three days. Whose customers have you been stealing? Nah, I’m playing. But really, who you been snaking to get so lucky?

TRENT

Alright, you got me. Just John’s. But I lent him some money, for that thing, so he kinda owes me.

ROBERT

Thats right, that thing he was so stressed about. But I heard that you said that you were going to help him out but never did. That you are always saying that you’ll help a guy out but always come up short.

TRENT

What! Who said!

ROBERT

Tony.

TRENT

Tony?

ROBERT

Yep,Tony. He has been letting loose that you pretend to be such and such, but that it’s really just a front. That you’re really broke.

TRENT

Tony? Yeah, Tony and I are going to need to have a little conversation.

ROBERT

Don’t be too hard on him, I think he was just messing around?

TRENT

Wrong. We’re going to talk real soon.

ROBERT

Just go easy. Like I said, I think he was just fucking around.

TRENT

Nope. We going to have it out. Come on and see what happens.

ROBERT

What? Whats going on?

TRENT

He’s in the back office right now, lets go get this handled.

ROBERT

You sure you want to do this? Something could pop off?

TRENT

It’ll be fine, just going to talk with him. Lets go.

Trent turns and walks to the door of the dealership. He opens and holds the door for Robert.

TRENT (CONT’D)

(holding the door)

Come on.

ROBERT

(walking through the door)

You sure you’re cool man?

TRENT

Yeah, I’m way cool. Lets go get this handled.

INT. DEALERSHIP BACK OFFICE – MOMENTS LATER

Robert and Trent walk into the Back Office and TONY and JOHN are inside talking. Robert walks in first followed by Trent who closes the door behind them.

JOHN

Look who decided to show up. Well alright lets get to it.

TONY

Thanks for coming Robert, this has been a long time coming.

It dawns on Robert what happening as Trent stands blocking the door.

TRENT

We’re good there aren’t any customers.

Tony grabs a BASEBALL BAT from behind a desk.

Robert’s face tells the whole story of what is about to happen.