(no subject)
final draft of the screenplay:
“Transcendence”
INT. APARTMENT. LAS ANGELES -- SPRING 1950’s
HORTON is facing his desk, sitting inside of a cramped, one bedroom apartment. Wall paper is peeling from the walls, the wall closest to the door is a different color than all the others. He types furiously on his typewriter and mutters to himself. His image grows clearer and his words grow louder over the harsh tap of the typewriter. We see the words being typed on the page.
HORTON
The blood read trails of neon advertisements screamed out from the curbside as Rem sped past the scenes that had lodged themselves forever inside of the vandalized folds of his cerebrum. Nothing was there to stop him anymore, but there was no longer any reason to go on. Where once stood an obstacle to whatever he would have for his future was now nothing. The foe was vanquished and laying dead inside of black polyethylene like bad Thanksgiving Day leftovers. The time for bravery has not yet passed, but what was there left to be brave for? What goal had he to choose?
Horton's head is halfway hidden behind the typewriter. An empty shot glass and a half-empty bottle come into view.
REM (V-O)
(softly)
You know this isn't right.
Horton’s eyes become visible, sweat beads down his face. His fingers pound louder on the keys.
HORTON
No home, no job, no girl, no money... all that he had left were his car and his father both of whom were either dead or dying.
REM (V-O)
(Softly)
He shouldn't have made it past the last chapter.
Horton peers at the typewriter, his gaze is steady. He begins to type faster. REM’s gaunt hand, covered in track marks, moves to touch his shoulder.
HORTON
The police had surely discovered everything by now. What was there left to do but to run, to leave town, to get as far as he could before he got caught? Drugs were still racing through his system as he got past the state line and he could still picture the corpse of his father bleeding puddles on the seat next to-
Rem’s hand moves closer to Horton’s shoulder. The knuckles turn white.
REM
(Angrily)
You can't end it like this, man! Fuck! This is not how it's supposed to-
Horton tosses back the chair. The room is empty.
HORTON
(Screaming)
I'm writing how it has to end God Da-
Horton pants. He pours himself a drink and tears the page from the typewriter, swallowing the liquor as he tosses the page onto a stack of paper.
INT. COFFEE HOUSE
Horton sits alone in a crowded coffee house, and plays with the spoon inside of his half-empty cup. His eyes are downcast as ROB sits in booth across from him. A WAITRESS takes his order.
ROB
One coffee, black.
HORTON
Ex-excuse me? Do you have any-
The waitress leaves.
HORTON
-cream?
ROB
So, is the revision complete?
Horton looks up from his coffee cup.
HORTON
Ye-…
Horton clears his throat.
HORTON
Yes, it’s finished.
ROB
Did you change the ending, as I asked?
HORTON
Yes sir, I hope that it’s what you wanted.
ROB
Good, good. You’re doing very well here Horton. After a few more stories from you I might even be able to get you into a position as a staff writer. You won’t even have to think about new ideas if you get into that station, we have other people think up ideas for them. All you would have to do is add some adjectives. That sound good to you Horton?
HORTON
(despairingly)
That sounds wonderf-
ROB
But I can’t guarantee anything yet, of course. You understand. If it were up to me, I would have you promoted in a second but procedure says otherwise. You’ve got great talent, kid, and if you keep playing ball with us you’ll really get somewhere.
HORTON
Thank you, sir.
The waitress returns to set down Rob’s coffee.
ROB
So what’s next for submission, if you don’t mind my asking? Something juicy, I hope.
HORTON
(Hopeful and excited)
Well, actually, I was hoping to do a love story this time. Nothing complicated, just two lovers in bed trying to discov-
ROB
No, no, no. We can’t use any of that now! We need something really… shocking. Not gruesome, but just graphic, and I think that you’re the perfect man to do it. Why, just by reading your last few stories, anyone can tell that you’re becoming a master of the social macabre. This time, though, we need something with a bit more spunk, more pizzazz. Murder is always a good sell. People seem to like that sort of stuff. Just use the typical baseline story and add your own sort of spin to it. Think you can do that, Horton?
HORTON
(Disappointed)
Well, sir I-
ROB
Of course you can. I expect it on my desk in a week for editing and revisions.
HORTON
Y-yes sir. I understand.
Rob leaves the table, he takes Horton’s manuscript with him. Horton stares into the swirls of his coffee cup. A fly lands into the cooling liquid. Horton peers over the edge and watches the fly struggle inside the cup. He begins to lift his finger to help the fly out. The waitress returns, pouring more coffee into the cup. Horton pulls his finger away. The waitress is chewing bubble gum and speaks with a thick New Jersey accent.
WAITRESS
You’re one of those writer boys, ain’tcha?
Horton looks up to her and smiles.
HORTON
Y-yes, I am. How did you guess?
WAITRESS
Nothin’ ta guess, really. Wormy guys meetin’ with fast talkers dressed up in nice suits.
Horton’s smile fades and he lowers into his seat.
WAITRESS
Always can tell who’s gettin’ screwed in a situation like that. Seems to me like it’s a dead business anyway. We got T.V. now, who needs books? Ya know?
HORTON
I know exactly what you mean…
WAITRESS
Why dontcha become an accountant or sumthin’? May as well at least get to see some a’ the dough those boys’re makin’. Maybe even make a few spare bucks yerself.
HORTON
Sometimes I wonder.
WAITRESS
You gonna be wantin’ the bill?
HORTON
Yes, please.
The waitress leaves. Horton begins staring into the swirls of his coffee cup. The sounds of the restaurant fade out. The black of the coffee reflects an image of Horton’s hotel room.
ZOOM TO:
INT. HORTON’S APARTMENT
Horton paces in his hotel room. He is alone. His desk lamp lights the room. His window faces an adjacent building, the curtain is half drawn.
HORTON
(frustrated)
I… I just can’t do it anymore! I can’t write this crap! Even if I write that’s something half-decent, he ends up changing it so that the intent isn’t even the same. Jesus!
Horton pours himself a drink.
HORTON
I would really like to kill the guy.
He swallows the shot.
HORTON
I mean, it’s not like there’s anything there worth saving.
DON’s voice speaks from nowhere.
DON(V-O)
So then why don’t you kill him if you hate him so much?
HORTON
(drunkenly)
Oh, I’d love to. But honestly, I’d rather not be put into the loving arms of some sweet prison fella named “Jim.”
DON(V-O)
It could provide for some interesting writing, you know.
HORTON
I don’t think I’d like my molestation catalogued in the library of congress, thank you very much.
Horton pours himself another shot and swallows it.
HORTON
And what the hell do you know, huh? I haven’t even written you yet!
DON(V-O)
Well, I know that you keep turning to stare at that girl outside the window.
HORTON
You’re delusional. I was just looking for a view.
DON(V-O)
I’d say. But geeze, man, I’m in your goddamned head and you’re arguing with me. I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s suffering from delusions.
HORTON
Maybe I just have a very sneaky best friend.
DON(V-O)
Guess again, daddio.
Horton sits on top of his bed. The springs sink and creak under his weight.
DON(V-O)
Go to the window.
HORTON
Why?
DON(V-O)
Just do it.
Horton walks to the window and stares out. In the building across from him is IRIS, a young, beautiful brunette turning on her radio. Horton looks dreamy.
DON(V-O)
Now, imagine if you two were together, lying in bed, after a night of passion and romance. Imagine her, half out of the covers beside you, sleepy and doe-eyed. What would you say to her?
HORTON
I… I don’t know. Something sexy, I hope.
DON(V-O)
One, don’t be stupid. And two, yes you do know what to say to her. And all you have to do is to go over there and write it down.
HORTON
But I have a contract. I need to work on that-
DON(V-O)
No, you don’t. We’ll worry about contractual obligations later. Now go to your desk and start writing this down.
Horton moves over to the typewriter.
DON(V-O)
So what would you say to me if I was her, naked beside you in bed?
HORTON
You know, this is getting kind of awkward.
DON(V-O)
Christ, man. Close your eyes then. What do you see?
Horton closes his eyes.
INT. DON’S APARTMENT
Iris is naked under thick red blankets. She is facing away.
HORTON’S APARTMENT.
HORTON
Just her… sleeping.
DON(V-O)
So what do you do?
DON’S APARTMENT. Don reaches over to put his hand on Iris’s shoulder.
DON
Are you asleep?
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton fingers the keys but he doesn’t type anything.
HORTON
(whispering)
Are you asleep?
Don’s hand is resting beside the typewriter. Between his fingers is a smoldering cigarette.
DON
And she says?
DON’S APARTMENT, Iris rolls over to show her face. Iris groans.
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton types on the typewriter slowly and gently.
HORTON
She… She just turns over and groans.
DON
So ask her again.
DON’S APARTMENT
DON
Are you sleeping?
Iris’s eyes open.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton is passed out on the table beside the typewriter. He holds an empty glass in one hand and an empty bottle is on the floor. The typewriter has no pages in it and on the other side of it lay two manuscripts. One is half-hidden under the typewriter. “Lovers” is written on the visible manuscript. A banging is heard from the door.
ROB
Horton! Are you in there?
The door is pounded upon again. Horton wakes up. He stands and accidentally knocks the bottle onto the floor. He stumbles to the doorway.
ROB
Horton! Get your ass out of bed! This is an emergency goddamnit!
Horton reaches the doorway and fumbles with the locks. Rob pounds again. Horton opens the door. Rob forces himself inside.
ROB
Horton! You had better have been on task this time or else your ass is on the line! Did you finish that story I assigned you?
HORTON
Y…yes sir. It’s over there on the table. But I thought that you didn’t need that until-
Rob walks towards the table.
ROB
Bullshit! When I need it is right now and you’re lucky that I don’t get on your ass for not giving it to me even earlier. I’m not going to waste any more time with your half-assed rewriting, I’ll just send it off to the staff writers to get it done. You’d take until sometime next year! The edition is going to presses early this week and I don’t need you wasting all of my time with your banter.
ROB
“Lovers”… Hm… catchy title… sexy. I think the boys will be able to work with this.
Rob marches towards the door.
HORTON
(panicked)
Sir! Wait, that’s no-
ROB
Well, I’ll get this off to the boys in bowties and I’ll talk to you later about your payment. Your conduct has been poor as of late and you can expect that to be reflected in the numbers.
Rob walks out the doorway.
HORTON
But that’s not-
Rob slams the door.
HORTON
Christ… this is not good.
Don, a tall, thin, attractive man in a black shirt and overcoat is leaning against the wall by the door lighting a cigarette.
DON
Nope, sure as hell isn’t
Don pulls the cigarette from his lips inhaling deeply.
DON
And now you get to steal it back.
HORTON
“Get to” makes this sound like something that your parents tell you will build character…
Horton walks over to his bed. A percolator sits on the bedside table. He pours a cold cup of coffee. He looks side to side on the table.
HORTON
Christ… no cream.
DON
Well, it won’t be fun, you can expect that much.
Horton sets down the coffee with a bang.
HORTON
What a day…
DON
And it’s just getting started.
FADE OUT.
EXT. HOTEL LAS ANGELES EVENING
Don and Horton wait on a sidewalk across from Rob’s hotel. Don smokes a cigarette and both look towards the hotel doors. Horton holds the rolled up murder story in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.
HORTON
It’s been four hours now! When is he going to get to leaving that damned hotel room?
Horton takes a sip of his coffee
HORTON
And there’s no cream in this coffee!
DON
Be cool, be cool. He’ll come out soon enough.
HORTON
Well who’s to say he hasn’t already taken the script off to the hackneys at central already? Oh man… what am I going to do?
DON
Okay… if he hasn’t left the hotel since we’ve been watching, how exactly could he have sent it out to be rewritten? You really need to calm down, man.
Horton whips around to look at Don.
HORTON
(loudly)
Calm down?!
People passing by pause and stare. Horton calms himself and holds his hands to his brow.
HORTON
(quietly)
Calm down? I’m going crazy, waiting here. I feel like a virgin boy taking last pick at prom night…
DON
Maybe you should get a girlfriend.
HORTON
(grumbling)
Maybe I should put that cigarette out on your eyeball ya stupid imaginary miscreant…
Rob leaves the hotel.
DON
Check it out. He’s left the palace.
HORTON
Does he have my script with him?!
DON
Doesn’t look like he’s carrying anything.
Don takes a drag off his cigarette.
DON
Now let’s see if we can get it back, shall we?
Horton walks across the street following Don. He throws his cup in the trash. They enter the hotel doors.
INT. HOTEL
Don and Horton wait in the lobby hallway. Horton peeks around the corner and sees the CLERK, a skinny, unattractive girl in her early twenties wearing a red bellhop hat and bellhop suit. The wall is covered with keys above mail slots. Names are written on paper slips under each slot. Horton and Don hide in the hallway.
DON
So what’s it look like out there?
HORTON
Pretty empty except for the clerk.
DON
Hm… Is it a guy or a gal?
HORTON
What?
DON
Guy or gal? C’mon man, keep with me here.
HORTON
It’s a ga-… I mean girl.
DON
Is she attractive?
HORTON
No… not particularly.
DON
Great. Now all you need to do is seduce her.
HORTON
What?! I’m not going to seduce her! You seduce her if you’re so desperate.
DON
I’m sure she’d love to be wined and dined by a figment of your imagination, but right now you have a job to do. But don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.
Don and Horton walk over to the desk. Horton puts the rolled up murder story into his back pocket. The clerk is bent over rifling through papers. Horton looks to Don questioningly and back to the clerk.
DON
So get her attention.
HORTON
H-hello… miss?
The clerk looks up to Horton.
CLERK
What can I do for you, sir?
DON
Tell her about how beautiful her eyes are.
Horton glances at Don.
HORTON
Sh!
Don is no longer there.
CLERK
Excuse me?
HORTON
Y-you have the most wonderful eyes.
The clerk blushes.
CLERK
Th-thank you. W-would you like a room, sir?
Don’s reappears beside Horton. He is smoking a cigarette.
DON
Tell her that what you’d like-
HORTON
What I would like…
DON
Is two one way tickets to Paris in one hand-
HORTON
Is t-two one-way tickets to Paris in one hand…
DON
And you in the other.
Horton looks perplexed.
HORTON
A-and you in the other.
The clerk eyeballs Horton.
CLERK
Sir, I think I’m going to have to let my manager help you. One moment please.
The clerk leaves.
DON
Smooth one, Don Juan. May as well grab the key while you’re waiting.
Horton looks over the desk to where the clerk left. No one is there. He fumbles over the desk and Grabs Rob’s key from the wall. The paper slip reads “ROB DREDGE Rm. 232.” Don and Horton leave to a hallway. They find room 232. Horton fumbles with the key and unlocks the door. The two walk inside. Horton scans behind them and closes the door.
INT. ROB’S HOTEL ROOM.
The room is large. The blankets are cheap cotton and the carpet has a few stains. The bed is unmade and the walls are wallpapered in an ornate design with some of the paper peeling at the corners revealing beige paint.
HORTON
We shouldn’t be doing this…
DON
Now if I were an unread script, where would I hide…?
HORTON
We should get out of here, Don.
DON
Well, we’re already inside so you may as well make the best of it. If we get caught, it’s not like leaving now will make any difference. This is already breaking and entering.
HORTON
Did you really have to tell me that?
DON
It seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, your script is sitting on the bedside table.
Horton rushes over to the table and grabs the script. He flips through the pages.
DON
Everything there?
HORTON
Well, it looks like it, but I’d really like to take a closer look at-
The sound of a key unlocking the door resonates through the room. Outside, a GIRL giggles. Don and Horton look back and forth to each other and begin to panic. Horton darts to the window and fumbles with the latches. He unlocks the window and attempts to open it but the slide is stuck. The door opens.
GIRL
(sexually)
So, you want to show me your latest masterpiece?
ROB
Everything I do is a masterpiece, doll.
Rob and the girl see Horton who holds the script in his hand. Don is no longer there.
GIRL
Oh, I didn’t know you were like that, Robby.
ROB
What the hell are you doing in my room, you little twerp?!
Horton continues to fumble with the window.
HORTON
I was just-
ROB
And what are you doing with my story?!
Rob pushes the girl away and onto the bed and stomps towards Horton. Horton smiles sheepishly, finally opens the window and falls through it.
EXT. HOTEL ALLEYWAY. EVENING.
Horton falls into a dumpster. Rob pokes his head out the window.
ROB
You get back here, you rotten son of a bitch! I’ll have you killed for this!
Horton looks upward as Rob is yelling. Rob ducks back inside and Horton climbs out of the dumpster, tripping over himself in a panic. As he rounds a corner, Don is there leaning against the side of a building smoking a cigarette.
DON
That went over well.
ROB(O.S. from far away)
Horton!!!
Horton looks behind himself towards the hotel entrance. Rob is marching towards him. He looks forward again. A taxi is coming. Horton waves it down. The DRIVER is a squat man with a large cigar in his mouth, wearing an old, raggedy hat. He squints into the rearview mirror as Horton and Don enter the back seat.
HORTON
17th and Broad.
The car begins to move. Horton and Don look out the window as they pass by Rob who is screaming and running after them. Rob falls far behind. Horton looks forward and calms down. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide.
HORTON
Uh-oh…
Horton begins feeling his pockets.
HORTON
(speaking to himself)
Where could it be?!
DRIVER
Where could what be?
HORTON
(still speaking to himself)
I had it in my hand at the café, I put it into my back pocket and then… crap.
DRIVER
What?
HORTON
(still speaking to himself)
It must have fallen into the dumpster.
DRIVER
Seems like where most things end up, doesn’t it?
HORTON
What?... Oh, yes. I suppose so.
DON
So, genius, what do you expect to give him now if he catches up to you?
HORTON
Shhh!
DRIVER
Excuse me?
HORTON
No, no. Not you. I’m sorry.
DRIVER
S’alright.
DON
Well, you know he’s going to come looking for you at your house.
HORTON
I’m not stupid, I’m just looking for somewhere to hide out for a while.
DRIVER
Never said you were stupid, mister.
HORTON
I… I know, I apologize. I have a lot going on in my head right now.
DON
You should probably go to an apartment in the next building over. That way, you can keep an eye on your apartment and see when it’s safe to head back and grab your stuff.
HORTON
(in a loud whisper)
Shut up!
DRIVER
I wasn’t sayin’ nothing! You nutcases just crawl out of the woodwork in this business.
DON
Well, he has a point. You are talking to a person who exists solely in your head.
HORTON
I wish I had never bothered to come out here…
DRIVER
You and me both, mister.
The car stops in front of Horton’s building. Horton and Don leave the cab.
EXT. HORTON’S HOTEL.
Horton pays the driver. He holds the “Lovers” script in his left hand. The cab speeds off. Horton looks back and forth between his building and the one adjacent to it. He counts the windows.
HORTON
Three… four… five… 305 in the Rembrandt should do it. Let’s go.
Don and Horton walk to the adjacent hotel. They enter.
INT. REMBRANDT HOTEL.
Horton is walking down the corridor with Don trailing. Don is smoking a cigarette and Horton is counting off the rooms.
HORTON
Three-oh-one, three-oh-three… here it is, three-oh-five.
Horton places his ear up to the door. IRIS opens the door. She is dressed in a white towel and has another towel wrapped around her head. The room is well furnished and clean. The walls are painted maroon and the floor is carpeted in red. Horton falls forward, knocking her over and landing on top of her. He lifts himself off of her. Iris and Horton scream.
Iris hits Horton in the face and pushes him off of her. She rushes to her desk and pulls out a revolver. Horton rolls over and sees the gun. He holds his hands in front of him.
IRIS
You pervert! You stinking, nasty pervert!
HORTON
I’m not a pervert! I was just trying to-
IRIS
Then what were you doing staring through my keyhole, huh? Did you get a good peek?
HORTON
I wasn’t-
Iris clicks to hammer back on the revolver.
IRIS
Well let’s just see what the police have to say about this. Don’t move.
Iris leaves to the kitchen. Horton looks over to the couch where Don is sitting, smoking a cigarette.
DON
Hah! Lucky you! You sure know how to pick ‘em doncha?
Iris unhooks the phone in the kitchen. The numbers whir around slowly.
HORTON
Oh god… this has got to be the most terrible day of my life.
Horton rolls himself onto his back.
DON
Quit whining, you just fell on top of a beautiful, half-naked woman who just so happened to be the inspiration for your masterwork. You should be in bliss.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
Mrs. Avery, get off the phone! This is an emergency!
HORTON
You sure have a peculiar way of looking at things.
DON
I guess I’m just the brighter side of you.
HORTON
Figures.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
Yes, it’s wonderful that you’re daughter got the part… No I don’t need her to recommend me for anything.
DON
Listen to that voice, man! She’s an angel.
Iris hangs up the phone with a bang.
IRIS
(screams)
Goddamned party lines! Goddamned old women! Ugh!
HORTON
The angel of death, maybe.
Iris enters the room. Don is no longer on the couch.
IRIS
Well it looks like I’m stuck with you until that old bat can tear herself away from the phone.
Iris motion with the pistol to the couch.
IRIS
Sit down.
Horton lifts himself up to sit on the couch. Iris follows him with the revolver. His play is on the floor. Horton moves to grab it.
IRIS
Don’t. Even. Think about it.
Horton leans back into his seat. Iris sits down in a chair beside the desk. They both sit in silence for about thirty seconds.
IRIS
So, what is it? Some perverted little sex book of yours?
HORTON
N-no. It’s a play I wrote. I’m a writer.
IRIS
A play, huh? Is that what you do in your spare time? At least when you’re not spying on unsuspecting women of course.
HORTON
I wasn’t spying! I was just-
IRIS
I don’t want to hear it. Right now, I just want you out of my apartment and behind bars. So sit down and shut up until I can get someone to come deal with you.
Iris and Horton sit in silence for another twenty seconds or so.
IRIS
I was in a play once.
HORTON
Really? Which one?
IRIS
Why should I tell you, you crazy nymphomaniac?
HORTON
You don’t have to… It just-
IRIS
You’re damned right, I don’t have to.
Silence fills the room again, but only for a few seconds.
IRIS
The King and I.
HORTON
Excuse me?
IRIS
The play, it was the king and I.
HORTON
That’s a huge production. What was your part in it?
IRIS
Anna. It was probably the most fun I’ve ever had at a job.
HORTON
Have you done a lot of plays?
IRIS
No, like I said, just once.
HORTON
So how did you get such a huge part if you’ve never acted before?
IRIS
It’s pretty easy to get a part if the director is paying you to sleep with him.
HORTON
You’re a whore?!
Iris fires off the gun to both sides of Horton’s body. Feathers shoot up from the couch where the bullets strike.
IRIS
Don’t you ever call me that!
Iris sits up tall.
IRIS
I am a paid companion. And I’ll always be an actress at heart.
HORTON
I’m sorry.
IRIS
You better be.
They sit in silence for another few moments. Iris looks to the script and back at Horton. She points at the script with the revolver.
IRIS
So what’s it about?
HORTON
What’s what about?
IRIS
Your script, stupid. What’s it about?
HORTON
You wouldn’t care…
IRIS
Well I’m the one with the gun, so whether I care or not doesn’t really matter, now does it? So tell me, what’s it about?
HORTON
It’s kind of dumb. Just two people, lovers, talking in bed after sex.
IRIS
Sounds pretty dumb.
Horton looks to the ground.
IRIS
Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it. I bet it’s fine.
HORTON
Doesn’t matter much now, does it? Seeing as I’m going to jail and all.
Iris hesitantly lowers her gun.
IRIS
You know what? Forget the cops.
HORTON
Thanks…
IRIS
Well, I’m going to go get some coffee. You want some?
HORTON
Sure, that sounds fine with me.
Iris leaves to the kitchen.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
How do you take it?
HORTON
With some cream if you’ve got it.
IRIS
No problem.
Iris reenters.
HORTON
So where were you when you did the play?
Iris hands Horton a cup.
IRIS
Out in New York. I lived there for a while before I moved here.
HORTON
Why did you leave?
IRIS
I thought I needed a change. But I guess all that I needed was to see that people are the same everywhere.
HORTON
I know what you mean.
(beat)
But sometimes you meet those people that change your whole outlook on things.
IRIS
Sometimes.
Iris and Horton look at each other for a moment.
HORTON
Do you ever feel like heading back there?
IRIS
Yeah. I just have to get up the courage to leave. I’d like to go see some of my old friends and maybe give acting another try.
Iris fidgets and itches at her towels.
IRIS
Well, stick here for a second. I’m going to go get dressed.
Iris leaves for her room. She stops and turns back to Horton.
IRIS
You know, for a pervert, you aren’t all that bad. But if I catch you trying to peek in, I swear to God I’ll repaint my walls with your skull.
Horton holds up his hands.
HORTON
I got it. I got it.
Iris enters her room and closes the door. Don is sitting beside Horton on the couch smoking a cigarette.
DON
She likes you.
HORTON
Don’t you ever go away?
DON
Only when you really want me to.
HORTON
Jesus…
Horton looks out the window to his room across the way. Rob is inside, tearing the room apart. Rob tosses the typewriter out the window.
HORTON
Aw man… There goes my typewriter…
DON
At least it isn’t you going out the window.
HORTON
But it’d still be nice if he didn’t break everything.
DON
Oh, the trials of consumerism.
HORTON
Screw you. I’ve had a terrible day even without you making fun of me.
DON
Yeah, yeah. I apologize.
(beat)
You need to work your charm on her.
HORTON
What are you talking about? What charm? I thought you were supposed to be in my head, not off in space.
DON
Think about it. Less than five minutes ago, you were getting shot at and now she’s inviting you to stay in her home while she gets dressed. Who’s the one that doesn’t see the obvious here?
HORTON
I guess…
DON
You better know. Now, with as much trouble it’s gotten you into, shouldn’t you try to put that damned play to some use?
HORTON
What do you mean?
DON
She was an actress. Think about it.
The sound of the door opening is heard. Iris leaves her room. Don is no longer on the couch. Iris walks over and sits down in the chair across from Horton. She places the gun back into the desk drawer.
IRIS
So who were you talking to out here? Some friend I don’t know about?
HORTON
Oh… I was just thinking about one of my characters. I was going through his flaws.
IRIS
Well, I hope it’s as good as you make it seem.
HORTON
…Do you want to read it?
IRIS
Why not?
Iris picks up the play off of the floor and goes to sit next to Horton. She opens the front page.
IRIS
So what part is mine?
HORTON
Well, you can either be the girl or the guy, your choice.
IRIS
Though I do like being adventurous, I think I’ll stick with the girl.
HORTON
Alright, here goes… Are you awake?
Iris groans.
HORTON
Are you awake?
IRIS
Mmhmm
HORTON
You’re the best part of my life, you know?
IRIS
That’s not true.
HORTON
I think it is. You’re the part of my world that makes me doubt everything. You’re too good to be real.
IRIS
You never let yourself see the good things.
HORTON
That’s why I need you.
IRIS
What makes you think that the rest of the world is bad then? You’re not hungry, you’re not dying, you have a lot going on for you.
HORTON
I may not be starving, but I see all the reasons why and how and everyone I meet seems almost soulless.
IRIS
That’s a sad way to live.
HORTON
That’s why I need you. You give me a reason to keep looking for the few people with life inside. You help me to realize that I have something left inside too.
IRIS
You should see that on your own. I see it in you.
HORTON
And I love you for it.
Iris looks into Horton’s eyes.
IRIS
If you weren’t here, do you think I would be empty like everyone else?
HORTON
I think you’re something better than that. You know that as well as I do.
IRIS
You know… I think… I think that I love you too.
A loud knocking comes from the door. Iris looks to the door and back to Horton.
ROB
Iris! Open up! I’ve come for a little visit!
IRIS
Shit!
Iris jumps from her seat, tosses the script onto the couch and pulls Horton to the floor.
IRIS
Hide under the couch! Quick!
Horton skooches under the seat.
IRIS
Now be quiet. If he knew another guy was in here, he’d go crazy.
ROB
Iris! Open up already!
Iris opens the door. Rob barges in, red faced and angry. He tosses his coat onto the seat beside the dresser.
ROB
Who were you talking to?
IRIS
Nobody, I was just cleaning up a little.
Iris Hugs Rob feebly and Rob quickly pulls away.
ROB
What a terrible day. Some bastard writer took his story from my room. I was supposed to have it handed in tomorrow.
IRIS
What was it about?
ROB
Hell if I know, just some crap like he always garbles about about consumerism and the downfall of American society. Lovebugs or something like that…
IRIS
Oh… well, I’m… going to go get ready. Do you want to come with?
ROB
No. I’ll just wait for you. I need a little rest before we get started.
Iris leaves to her room and closes the door. Rob sits down in the chair and begins to light a cigar.
ROB
Goddamned worthless bastard. Now the E.I.C. is going to be yelling at me for all of this.
Horton peers at Rob from under the couch. Don is behind him smoking a cigarette.
DON
What a coincidence. Iris’s loverboy turns out to be your bane.
HORTON
Shh!
Rob looks around for a moment and settles back to smoking his cigar.
DON
Told you she liked you, didn’t I? Just goes to show you should always look on the bright side of things.
ROB
Are you almost ready yet?
IRIS
Just a minute!
Rob continues to smoke his cigar but starts as he looks towards the couch.
DON
Uh-oh, boyo. Looks like we’re busted.
Horton glares at Don. Rob stands and his feet come closer and closer to the couch.
ROB
What the hell…? This is…
Rob picks up the script.
ROB
This is the story! This is the same goddamned story! Who the hell has been in here with you Iris?!
IRIS
What?
Iris comes out from the bedroom.
IRIS
What are you talking about, Rob?
ROB
“Lovers”! This story! This is the one that bastard took from-
Rob looks past Iris to the window and sees Horton’s room. He walks to the window and looks down. The broken typewriter is on the sidewalk below.
ROB
Where is he?! Where are you hiding him?!
IRIS
I have no idea what you’re-
Rob pushes Iris aside and walks towards the couch.
DON
Time for me to go.
HORTON
Wait! I need you! Who’s going to help me-
DON
You have someone else to help you now.
Rob reaches the couch and flips it over, revealing Horton, alone, face down.
HORTON
H-hello Rob.
ROB
It’s the bastard! You sneaky little shit!
Rob yanks Horton up by his collar and smacks him around the room.
ROB
Did you think I wouldn’t find you?! Did you think you could get away?! You’ll never get a thing published again you little turd!
HORTON
Let me explain!
IRIS
Stop hurting him!
Iris tries to get Rob away from Horton. Rob smacks her away.
ROB
Shut your mouth you worthless whore!
Rob continues to shake Horton. Iris approaches her desk and takes out the gun.
ROB
I’m going to take you apart piece by piece, give you over the cops so that they can take you apart even more. I’m going to-
Iris is behind him holding the gun by the nose above her head.
IRIS
“worthless whore”?!
Rob turns just as Iris brings down to butt of the gun to his neck. He falls and Horton lands in front of him.
HORTON
You… You saved me!
IRIS
No time for that. I think it’s our cue to get out of here.
Iris run into her room for a moment and returns with a suitcase. Clothes are coming out of it.
HORTON
Where… where are we going?
IRIS
They say there’s no place like Broadway. But let’s try to get a move on, okay?
Iris grabs Horton’s hand and leads him out the door. Rob is lying face down, unconscious. The gun is on the ground by the overturned couch. Don stands with one leg against the wall framed by the doorway smoking a cigarette. He takes a long drag.
DON
And that, my dear friends.
Don exhales loudly.
DON
Is the end.
Don puts out his cigarette.
THE END.
“Transcendence”
INT. APARTMENT. LAS ANGELES -- SPRING 1950’s
HORTON is facing his desk, sitting inside of a cramped, one bedroom apartment. Wall paper is peeling from the walls, the wall closest to the door is a different color than all the others. He types furiously on his typewriter and mutters to himself. His image grows clearer and his words grow louder over the harsh tap of the typewriter. We see the words being typed on the page.
HORTON
The blood read trails of neon advertisements screamed out from the curbside as Rem sped past the scenes that had lodged themselves forever inside of the vandalized folds of his cerebrum. Nothing was there to stop him anymore, but there was no longer any reason to go on. Where once stood an obstacle to whatever he would have for his future was now nothing. The foe was vanquished and laying dead inside of black polyethylene like bad Thanksgiving Day leftovers. The time for bravery has not yet passed, but what was there left to be brave for? What goal had he to choose?
Horton's head is halfway hidden behind the typewriter. An empty shot glass and a half-empty bottle come into view.
REM (V-O)
(softly)
You know this isn't right.
Horton’s eyes become visible, sweat beads down his face. His fingers pound louder on the keys.
HORTON
No home, no job, no girl, no money... all that he had left were his car and his father both of whom were either dead or dying.
REM (V-O)
(Softly)
He shouldn't have made it past the last chapter.
Horton peers at the typewriter, his gaze is steady. He begins to type faster. REM’s gaunt hand, covered in track marks, moves to touch his shoulder.
HORTON
The police had surely discovered everything by now. What was there left to do but to run, to leave town, to get as far as he could before he got caught? Drugs were still racing through his system as he got past the state line and he could still picture the corpse of his father bleeding puddles on the seat next to-
Rem’s hand moves closer to Horton’s shoulder. The knuckles turn white.
REM
(Angrily)
You can't end it like this, man! Fuck! This is not how it's supposed to-
Horton tosses back the chair. The room is empty.
HORTON
(Screaming)
I'm writing how it has to end God Da-
Horton pants. He pours himself a drink and tears the page from the typewriter, swallowing the liquor as he tosses the page onto a stack of paper.
INT. COFFEE HOUSE
Horton sits alone in a crowded coffee house, and plays with the spoon inside of his half-empty cup. His eyes are downcast as ROB sits in booth across from him. A WAITRESS takes his order.
ROB
One coffee, black.
HORTON
Ex-excuse me? Do you have any-
The waitress leaves.
HORTON
-cream?
ROB
So, is the revision complete?
Horton looks up from his coffee cup.
HORTON
Ye-…
Horton clears his throat.
HORTON
Yes, it’s finished.
ROB
Did you change the ending, as I asked?
HORTON
Yes sir, I hope that it’s what you wanted.
ROB
Good, good. You’re doing very well here Horton. After a few more stories from you I might even be able to get you into a position as a staff writer. You won’t even have to think about new ideas if you get into that station, we have other people think up ideas for them. All you would have to do is add some adjectives. That sound good to you Horton?
HORTON
(despairingly)
That sounds wonderf-
ROB
But I can’t guarantee anything yet, of course. You understand. If it were up to me, I would have you promoted in a second but procedure says otherwise. You’ve got great talent, kid, and if you keep playing ball with us you’ll really get somewhere.
HORTON
Thank you, sir.
The waitress returns to set down Rob’s coffee.
ROB
So what’s next for submission, if you don’t mind my asking? Something juicy, I hope.
HORTON
(Hopeful and excited)
Well, actually, I was hoping to do a love story this time. Nothing complicated, just two lovers in bed trying to discov-
ROB
No, no, no. We can’t use any of that now! We need something really… shocking. Not gruesome, but just graphic, and I think that you’re the perfect man to do it. Why, just by reading your last few stories, anyone can tell that you’re becoming a master of the social macabre. This time, though, we need something with a bit more spunk, more pizzazz. Murder is always a good sell. People seem to like that sort of stuff. Just use the typical baseline story and add your own sort of spin to it. Think you can do that, Horton?
HORTON
(Disappointed)
Well, sir I-
ROB
Of course you can. I expect it on my desk in a week for editing and revisions.
HORTON
Y-yes sir. I understand.
Rob leaves the table, he takes Horton’s manuscript with him. Horton stares into the swirls of his coffee cup. A fly lands into the cooling liquid. Horton peers over the edge and watches the fly struggle inside the cup. He begins to lift his finger to help the fly out. The waitress returns, pouring more coffee into the cup. Horton pulls his finger away. The waitress is chewing bubble gum and speaks with a thick New Jersey accent.
WAITRESS
You’re one of those writer boys, ain’tcha?
Horton looks up to her and smiles.
HORTON
Y-yes, I am. How did you guess?
WAITRESS
Nothin’ ta guess, really. Wormy guys meetin’ with fast talkers dressed up in nice suits.
Horton’s smile fades and he lowers into his seat.
WAITRESS
Always can tell who’s gettin’ screwed in a situation like that. Seems to me like it’s a dead business anyway. We got T.V. now, who needs books? Ya know?
HORTON
I know exactly what you mean…
WAITRESS
Why dontcha become an accountant or sumthin’? May as well at least get to see some a’ the dough those boys’re makin’. Maybe even make a few spare bucks yerself.
HORTON
Sometimes I wonder.
WAITRESS
You gonna be wantin’ the bill?
HORTON
Yes, please.
The waitress leaves. Horton begins staring into the swirls of his coffee cup. The sounds of the restaurant fade out. The black of the coffee reflects an image of Horton’s hotel room.
ZOOM TO:
INT. HORTON’S APARTMENT
Horton paces in his hotel room. He is alone. His desk lamp lights the room. His window faces an adjacent building, the curtain is half drawn.
HORTON
(frustrated)
I… I just can’t do it anymore! I can’t write this crap! Even if I write that’s something half-decent, he ends up changing it so that the intent isn’t even the same. Jesus!
Horton pours himself a drink.
HORTON
I would really like to kill the guy.
He swallows the shot.
HORTON
I mean, it’s not like there’s anything there worth saving.
DON’s voice speaks from nowhere.
DON(V-O)
So then why don’t you kill him if you hate him so much?
HORTON
(drunkenly)
Oh, I’d love to. But honestly, I’d rather not be put into the loving arms of some sweet prison fella named “Jim.”
DON(V-O)
It could provide for some interesting writing, you know.
HORTON
I don’t think I’d like my molestation catalogued in the library of congress, thank you very much.
Horton pours himself another shot and swallows it.
HORTON
And what the hell do you know, huh? I haven’t even written you yet!
DON(V-O)
Well, I know that you keep turning to stare at that girl outside the window.
HORTON
You’re delusional. I was just looking for a view.
DON(V-O)
I’d say. But geeze, man, I’m in your goddamned head and you’re arguing with me. I’m pretty sure you’re the one who’s suffering from delusions.
HORTON
Maybe I just have a very sneaky best friend.
DON(V-O)
Guess again, daddio.
Horton sits on top of his bed. The springs sink and creak under his weight.
DON(V-O)
Go to the window.
HORTON
Why?
DON(V-O)
Just do it.
Horton walks to the window and stares out. In the building across from him is IRIS, a young, beautiful brunette turning on her radio. Horton looks dreamy.
DON(V-O)
Now, imagine if you two were together, lying in bed, after a night of passion and romance. Imagine her, half out of the covers beside you, sleepy and doe-eyed. What would you say to her?
HORTON
I… I don’t know. Something sexy, I hope.
DON(V-O)
One, don’t be stupid. And two, yes you do know what to say to her. And all you have to do is to go over there and write it down.
HORTON
But I have a contract. I need to work on that-
DON(V-O)
No, you don’t. We’ll worry about contractual obligations later. Now go to your desk and start writing this down.
Horton moves over to the typewriter.
DON(V-O)
So what would you say to me if I was her, naked beside you in bed?
HORTON
You know, this is getting kind of awkward.
DON(V-O)
Christ, man. Close your eyes then. What do you see?
Horton closes his eyes.
INT. DON’S APARTMENT
Iris is naked under thick red blankets. She is facing away.
HORTON’S APARTMENT.
HORTON
Just her… sleeping.
DON(V-O)
So what do you do?
DON’S APARTMENT. Don reaches over to put his hand on Iris’s shoulder.
DON
Are you asleep?
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton fingers the keys but he doesn’t type anything.
HORTON
(whispering)
Are you asleep?
Don’s hand is resting beside the typewriter. Between his fingers is a smoldering cigarette.
DON
And she says?
DON’S APARTMENT, Iris rolls over to show her face. Iris groans.
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton types on the typewriter slowly and gently.
HORTON
She… She just turns over and groans.
DON
So ask her again.
DON’S APARTMENT
DON
Are you sleeping?
Iris’s eyes open.
FADE OUT.
FADE IN.
HORTON’S APARTMENT. Horton is passed out on the table beside the typewriter. He holds an empty glass in one hand and an empty bottle is on the floor. The typewriter has no pages in it and on the other side of it lay two manuscripts. One is half-hidden under the typewriter. “Lovers” is written on the visible manuscript. A banging is heard from the door.
ROB
Horton! Are you in there?
The door is pounded upon again. Horton wakes up. He stands and accidentally knocks the bottle onto the floor. He stumbles to the doorway.
ROB
Horton! Get your ass out of bed! This is an emergency goddamnit!
Horton reaches the doorway and fumbles with the locks. Rob pounds again. Horton opens the door. Rob forces himself inside.
ROB
Horton! You had better have been on task this time or else your ass is on the line! Did you finish that story I assigned you?
HORTON
Y…yes sir. It’s over there on the table. But I thought that you didn’t need that until-
Rob walks towards the table.
ROB
Bullshit! When I need it is right now and you’re lucky that I don’t get on your ass for not giving it to me even earlier. I’m not going to waste any more time with your half-assed rewriting, I’ll just send it off to the staff writers to get it done. You’d take until sometime next year! The edition is going to presses early this week and I don’t need you wasting all of my time with your banter.
ROB
“Lovers”… Hm… catchy title… sexy. I think the boys will be able to work with this.
Rob marches towards the door.
HORTON
(panicked)
Sir! Wait, that’s no-
ROB
Well, I’ll get this off to the boys in bowties and I’ll talk to you later about your payment. Your conduct has been poor as of late and you can expect that to be reflected in the numbers.
Rob walks out the doorway.
HORTON
But that’s not-
Rob slams the door.
HORTON
Christ… this is not good.
Don, a tall, thin, attractive man in a black shirt and overcoat is leaning against the wall by the door lighting a cigarette.
DON
Nope, sure as hell isn’t
Don pulls the cigarette from his lips inhaling deeply.
DON
And now you get to steal it back.
HORTON
“Get to” makes this sound like something that your parents tell you will build character…
Horton walks over to his bed. A percolator sits on the bedside table. He pours a cold cup of coffee. He looks side to side on the table.
HORTON
Christ… no cream.
DON
Well, it won’t be fun, you can expect that much.
Horton sets down the coffee with a bang.
HORTON
What a day…
DON
And it’s just getting started.
FADE OUT.
EXT. HOTEL LAS ANGELES EVENING
Don and Horton wait on a sidewalk across from Rob’s hotel. Don smokes a cigarette and both look towards the hotel doors. Horton holds the rolled up murder story in one hand and a coffee cup in the other.
HORTON
It’s been four hours now! When is he going to get to leaving that damned hotel room?
Horton takes a sip of his coffee
HORTON
And there’s no cream in this coffee!
DON
Be cool, be cool. He’ll come out soon enough.
HORTON
Well who’s to say he hasn’t already taken the script off to the hackneys at central already? Oh man… what am I going to do?
DON
Okay… if he hasn’t left the hotel since we’ve been watching, how exactly could he have sent it out to be rewritten? You really need to calm down, man.
Horton whips around to look at Don.
HORTON
(loudly)
Calm down?!
People passing by pause and stare. Horton calms himself and holds his hands to his brow.
HORTON
(quietly)
Calm down? I’m going crazy, waiting here. I feel like a virgin boy taking last pick at prom night…
DON
Maybe you should get a girlfriend.
HORTON
(grumbling)
Maybe I should put that cigarette out on your eyeball ya stupid imaginary miscreant…
Rob leaves the hotel.
DON
Check it out. He’s left the palace.
HORTON
Does he have my script with him?!
DON
Doesn’t look like he’s carrying anything.
Don takes a drag off his cigarette.
DON
Now let’s see if we can get it back, shall we?
Horton walks across the street following Don. He throws his cup in the trash. They enter the hotel doors.
INT. HOTEL
Don and Horton wait in the lobby hallway. Horton peeks around the corner and sees the CLERK, a skinny, unattractive girl in her early twenties wearing a red bellhop hat and bellhop suit. The wall is covered with keys above mail slots. Names are written on paper slips under each slot. Horton and Don hide in the hallway.
DON
So what’s it look like out there?
HORTON
Pretty empty except for the clerk.
DON
Hm… Is it a guy or a gal?
HORTON
What?
DON
Guy or gal? C’mon man, keep with me here.
HORTON
It’s a ga-… I mean girl.
DON
Is she attractive?
HORTON
No… not particularly.
DON
Great. Now all you need to do is seduce her.
HORTON
What?! I’m not going to seduce her! You seduce her if you’re so desperate.
DON
I’m sure she’d love to be wined and dined by a figment of your imagination, but right now you have a job to do. But don’t worry, I’ll walk you through it.
Don and Horton walk over to the desk. Horton puts the rolled up murder story into his back pocket. The clerk is bent over rifling through papers. Horton looks to Don questioningly and back to the clerk.
DON
So get her attention.
HORTON
H-hello… miss?
The clerk looks up to Horton.
CLERK
What can I do for you, sir?
DON
Tell her about how beautiful her eyes are.
Horton glances at Don.
HORTON
Sh!
Don is no longer there.
CLERK
Excuse me?
HORTON
Y-you have the most wonderful eyes.
The clerk blushes.
CLERK
Th-thank you. W-would you like a room, sir?
Don’s reappears beside Horton. He is smoking a cigarette.
DON
Tell her that what you’d like-
HORTON
What I would like…
DON
Is two one way tickets to Paris in one hand-
HORTON
Is t-two one-way tickets to Paris in one hand…
DON
And you in the other.
Horton looks perplexed.
HORTON
A-and you in the other.
The clerk eyeballs Horton.
CLERK
Sir, I think I’m going to have to let my manager help you. One moment please.
The clerk leaves.
DON
Smooth one, Don Juan. May as well grab the key while you’re waiting.
Horton looks over the desk to where the clerk left. No one is there. He fumbles over the desk and Grabs Rob’s key from the wall. The paper slip reads “ROB DREDGE Rm. 232.” Don and Horton leave to a hallway. They find room 232. Horton fumbles with the key and unlocks the door. The two walk inside. Horton scans behind them and closes the door.
INT. ROB’S HOTEL ROOM.
The room is large. The blankets are cheap cotton and the carpet has a few stains. The bed is unmade and the walls are wallpapered in an ornate design with some of the paper peeling at the corners revealing beige paint.
HORTON
We shouldn’t be doing this…
DON
Now if I were an unread script, where would I hide…?
HORTON
We should get out of here, Don.
DON
Well, we’re already inside so you may as well make the best of it. If we get caught, it’s not like leaving now will make any difference. This is already breaking and entering.
HORTON
Did you really have to tell me that?
DON
It seemed like a good idea at the time. By the way, your script is sitting on the bedside table.
Horton rushes over to the table and grabs the script. He flips through the pages.
DON
Everything there?
HORTON
Well, it looks like it, but I’d really like to take a closer look at-
The sound of a key unlocking the door resonates through the room. Outside, a GIRL giggles. Don and Horton look back and forth to each other and begin to panic. Horton darts to the window and fumbles with the latches. He unlocks the window and attempts to open it but the slide is stuck. The door opens.
GIRL
(sexually)
So, you want to show me your latest masterpiece?
ROB
Everything I do is a masterpiece, doll.
Rob and the girl see Horton who holds the script in his hand. Don is no longer there.
GIRL
Oh, I didn’t know you were like that, Robby.
ROB
What the hell are you doing in my room, you little twerp?!
Horton continues to fumble with the window.
HORTON
I was just-
ROB
And what are you doing with my story?!
Rob pushes the girl away and onto the bed and stomps towards Horton. Horton smiles sheepishly, finally opens the window and falls through it.
EXT. HOTEL ALLEYWAY. EVENING.
Horton falls into a dumpster. Rob pokes his head out the window.
ROB
You get back here, you rotten son of a bitch! I’ll have you killed for this!
Horton looks upward as Rob is yelling. Rob ducks back inside and Horton climbs out of the dumpster, tripping over himself in a panic. As he rounds a corner, Don is there leaning against the side of a building smoking a cigarette.
DON
That went over well.
ROB(O.S. from far away)
Horton!!!
Horton looks behind himself towards the hotel entrance. Rob is marching towards him. He looks forward again. A taxi is coming. Horton waves it down. The DRIVER is a squat man with a large cigar in his mouth, wearing an old, raggedy hat. He squints into the rearview mirror as Horton and Don enter the back seat.
HORTON
17th and Broad.
The car begins to move. Horton and Don look out the window as they pass by Rob who is screaming and running after them. Rob falls far behind. Horton looks forward and calms down. Suddenly, his eyes grow wide.
HORTON
Uh-oh…
Horton begins feeling his pockets.
HORTON
(speaking to himself)
Where could it be?!
DRIVER
Where could what be?
HORTON
(still speaking to himself)
I had it in my hand at the café, I put it into my back pocket and then… crap.
DRIVER
What?
HORTON
(still speaking to himself)
It must have fallen into the dumpster.
DRIVER
Seems like where most things end up, doesn’t it?
HORTON
What?... Oh, yes. I suppose so.
DON
So, genius, what do you expect to give him now if he catches up to you?
HORTON
Shhh!
DRIVER
Excuse me?
HORTON
No, no. Not you. I’m sorry.
DRIVER
S’alright.
DON
Well, you know he’s going to come looking for you at your house.
HORTON
I’m not stupid, I’m just looking for somewhere to hide out for a while.
DRIVER
Never said you were stupid, mister.
HORTON
I… I know, I apologize. I have a lot going on in my head right now.
DON
You should probably go to an apartment in the next building over. That way, you can keep an eye on your apartment and see when it’s safe to head back and grab your stuff.
HORTON
(in a loud whisper)
Shut up!
DRIVER
I wasn’t sayin’ nothing! You nutcases just crawl out of the woodwork in this business.
DON
Well, he has a point. You are talking to a person who exists solely in your head.
HORTON
I wish I had never bothered to come out here…
DRIVER
You and me both, mister.
The car stops in front of Horton’s building. Horton and Don leave the cab.
EXT. HORTON’S HOTEL.
Horton pays the driver. He holds the “Lovers” script in his left hand. The cab speeds off. Horton looks back and forth between his building and the one adjacent to it. He counts the windows.
HORTON
Three… four… five… 305 in the Rembrandt should do it. Let’s go.
Don and Horton walk to the adjacent hotel. They enter.
INT. REMBRANDT HOTEL.
Horton is walking down the corridor with Don trailing. Don is smoking a cigarette and Horton is counting off the rooms.
HORTON
Three-oh-one, three-oh-three… here it is, three-oh-five.
Horton places his ear up to the door. IRIS opens the door. She is dressed in a white towel and has another towel wrapped around her head. The room is well furnished and clean. The walls are painted maroon and the floor is carpeted in red. Horton falls forward, knocking her over and landing on top of her. He lifts himself off of her. Iris and Horton scream.
Iris hits Horton in the face and pushes him off of her. She rushes to her desk and pulls out a revolver. Horton rolls over and sees the gun. He holds his hands in front of him.
IRIS
You pervert! You stinking, nasty pervert!
HORTON
I’m not a pervert! I was just trying to-
IRIS
Then what were you doing staring through my keyhole, huh? Did you get a good peek?
HORTON
I wasn’t-
Iris clicks to hammer back on the revolver.
IRIS
Well let’s just see what the police have to say about this. Don’t move.
Iris leaves to the kitchen. Horton looks over to the couch where Don is sitting, smoking a cigarette.
DON
Hah! Lucky you! You sure know how to pick ‘em doncha?
Iris unhooks the phone in the kitchen. The numbers whir around slowly.
HORTON
Oh god… this has got to be the most terrible day of my life.
Horton rolls himself onto his back.
DON
Quit whining, you just fell on top of a beautiful, half-naked woman who just so happened to be the inspiration for your masterwork. You should be in bliss.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
Mrs. Avery, get off the phone! This is an emergency!
HORTON
You sure have a peculiar way of looking at things.
DON
I guess I’m just the brighter side of you.
HORTON
Figures.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
Yes, it’s wonderful that you’re daughter got the part… No I don’t need her to recommend me for anything.
DON
Listen to that voice, man! She’s an angel.
Iris hangs up the phone with a bang.
IRIS
(screams)
Goddamned party lines! Goddamned old women! Ugh!
HORTON
The angel of death, maybe.
Iris enters the room. Don is no longer on the couch.
IRIS
Well it looks like I’m stuck with you until that old bat can tear herself away from the phone.
Iris motion with the pistol to the couch.
IRIS
Sit down.
Horton lifts himself up to sit on the couch. Iris follows him with the revolver. His play is on the floor. Horton moves to grab it.
IRIS
Don’t. Even. Think about it.
Horton leans back into his seat. Iris sits down in a chair beside the desk. They both sit in silence for about thirty seconds.
IRIS
So, what is it? Some perverted little sex book of yours?
HORTON
N-no. It’s a play I wrote. I’m a writer.
IRIS
A play, huh? Is that what you do in your spare time? At least when you’re not spying on unsuspecting women of course.
HORTON
I wasn’t spying! I was just-
IRIS
I don’t want to hear it. Right now, I just want you out of my apartment and behind bars. So sit down and shut up until I can get someone to come deal with you.
Iris and Horton sit in silence for another twenty seconds or so.
IRIS
I was in a play once.
HORTON
Really? Which one?
IRIS
Why should I tell you, you crazy nymphomaniac?
HORTON
You don’t have to… It just-
IRIS
You’re damned right, I don’t have to.
Silence fills the room again, but only for a few seconds.
IRIS
The King and I.
HORTON
Excuse me?
IRIS
The play, it was the king and I.
HORTON
That’s a huge production. What was your part in it?
IRIS
Anna. It was probably the most fun I’ve ever had at a job.
HORTON
Have you done a lot of plays?
IRIS
No, like I said, just once.
HORTON
So how did you get such a huge part if you’ve never acted before?
IRIS
It’s pretty easy to get a part if the director is paying you to sleep with him.
HORTON
You’re a whore?!
Iris fires off the gun to both sides of Horton’s body. Feathers shoot up from the couch where the bullets strike.
IRIS
Don’t you ever call me that!
Iris sits up tall.
IRIS
I am a paid companion. And I’ll always be an actress at heart.
HORTON
I’m sorry.
IRIS
You better be.
They sit in silence for another few moments. Iris looks to the script and back at Horton. She points at the script with the revolver.
IRIS
So what’s it about?
HORTON
What’s what about?
IRIS
Your script, stupid. What’s it about?
HORTON
You wouldn’t care…
IRIS
Well I’m the one with the gun, so whether I care or not doesn’t really matter, now does it? So tell me, what’s it about?
HORTON
It’s kind of dumb. Just two people, lovers, talking in bed after sex.
IRIS
Sounds pretty dumb.
Horton looks to the ground.
IRIS
Oh, come on. I didn’t mean it. I bet it’s fine.
HORTON
Doesn’t matter much now, does it? Seeing as I’m going to jail and all.
Iris hesitantly lowers her gun.
IRIS
You know what? Forget the cops.
HORTON
Thanks…
IRIS
Well, I’m going to go get some coffee. You want some?
HORTON
Sure, that sounds fine with me.
Iris leaves to the kitchen.
IRIS (O.S. from far away)
How do you take it?
HORTON
With some cream if you’ve got it.
IRIS
No problem.
Iris reenters.
HORTON
So where were you when you did the play?
Iris hands Horton a cup.
IRIS
Out in New York. I lived there for a while before I moved here.
HORTON
Why did you leave?
IRIS
I thought I needed a change. But I guess all that I needed was to see that people are the same everywhere.
HORTON
I know what you mean.
(beat)
But sometimes you meet those people that change your whole outlook on things.
IRIS
Sometimes.
Iris and Horton look at each other for a moment.
HORTON
Do you ever feel like heading back there?
IRIS
Yeah. I just have to get up the courage to leave. I’d like to go see some of my old friends and maybe give acting another try.
Iris fidgets and itches at her towels.
IRIS
Well, stick here for a second. I’m going to go get dressed.
Iris leaves for her room. She stops and turns back to Horton.
IRIS
You know, for a pervert, you aren’t all that bad. But if I catch you trying to peek in, I swear to God I’ll repaint my walls with your skull.
Horton holds up his hands.
HORTON
I got it. I got it.
Iris enters her room and closes the door. Don is sitting beside Horton on the couch smoking a cigarette.
DON
She likes you.
HORTON
Don’t you ever go away?
DON
Only when you really want me to.
HORTON
Jesus…
Horton looks out the window to his room across the way. Rob is inside, tearing the room apart. Rob tosses the typewriter out the window.
HORTON
Aw man… There goes my typewriter…
DON
At least it isn’t you going out the window.
HORTON
But it’d still be nice if he didn’t break everything.
DON
Oh, the trials of consumerism.
HORTON
Screw you. I’ve had a terrible day even without you making fun of me.
DON
Yeah, yeah. I apologize.
(beat)
You need to work your charm on her.
HORTON
What are you talking about? What charm? I thought you were supposed to be in my head, not off in space.
DON
Think about it. Less than five minutes ago, you were getting shot at and now she’s inviting you to stay in her home while she gets dressed. Who’s the one that doesn’t see the obvious here?
HORTON
I guess…
DON
You better know. Now, with as much trouble it’s gotten you into, shouldn’t you try to put that damned play to some use?
HORTON
What do you mean?
DON
She was an actress. Think about it.
The sound of the door opening is heard. Iris leaves her room. Don is no longer on the couch. Iris walks over and sits down in the chair across from Horton. She places the gun back into the desk drawer.
IRIS
So who were you talking to out here? Some friend I don’t know about?
HORTON
Oh… I was just thinking about one of my characters. I was going through his flaws.
IRIS
Well, I hope it’s as good as you make it seem.
HORTON
…Do you want to read it?
IRIS
Why not?
Iris picks up the play off of the floor and goes to sit next to Horton. She opens the front page.
IRIS
So what part is mine?
HORTON
Well, you can either be the girl or the guy, your choice.
IRIS
Though I do like being adventurous, I think I’ll stick with the girl.
HORTON
Alright, here goes… Are you awake?
Iris groans.
HORTON
Are you awake?
IRIS
Mmhmm
HORTON
You’re the best part of my life, you know?
IRIS
That’s not true.
HORTON
I think it is. You’re the part of my world that makes me doubt everything. You’re too good to be real.
IRIS
You never let yourself see the good things.
HORTON
That’s why I need you.
IRIS
What makes you think that the rest of the world is bad then? You’re not hungry, you’re not dying, you have a lot going on for you.
HORTON
I may not be starving, but I see all the reasons why and how and everyone I meet seems almost soulless.
IRIS
That’s a sad way to live.
HORTON
That’s why I need you. You give me a reason to keep looking for the few people with life inside. You help me to realize that I have something left inside too.
IRIS
You should see that on your own. I see it in you.
HORTON
And I love you for it.
Iris looks into Horton’s eyes.
IRIS
If you weren’t here, do you think I would be empty like everyone else?
HORTON
I think you’re something better than that. You know that as well as I do.
IRIS
You know… I think… I think that I love you too.
A loud knocking comes from the door. Iris looks to the door and back to Horton.
ROB
Iris! Open up! I’ve come for a little visit!
IRIS
Shit!
Iris jumps from her seat, tosses the script onto the couch and pulls Horton to the floor.
IRIS
Hide under the couch! Quick!
Horton skooches under the seat.
IRIS
Now be quiet. If he knew another guy was in here, he’d go crazy.
ROB
Iris! Open up already!
Iris opens the door. Rob barges in, red faced and angry. He tosses his coat onto the seat beside the dresser.
ROB
Who were you talking to?
IRIS
Nobody, I was just cleaning up a little.
Iris Hugs Rob feebly and Rob quickly pulls away.
ROB
What a terrible day. Some bastard writer took his story from my room. I was supposed to have it handed in tomorrow.
IRIS
What was it about?
ROB
Hell if I know, just some crap like he always garbles about about consumerism and the downfall of American society. Lovebugs or something like that…
IRIS
Oh… well, I’m… going to go get ready. Do you want to come with?
ROB
No. I’ll just wait for you. I need a little rest before we get started.
Iris leaves to her room and closes the door. Rob sits down in the chair and begins to light a cigar.
ROB
Goddamned worthless bastard. Now the E.I.C. is going to be yelling at me for all of this.
Horton peers at Rob from under the couch. Don is behind him smoking a cigarette.
DON
What a coincidence. Iris’s loverboy turns out to be your bane.
HORTON
Shh!
Rob looks around for a moment and settles back to smoking his cigar.
DON
Told you she liked you, didn’t I? Just goes to show you should always look on the bright side of things.
ROB
Are you almost ready yet?
IRIS
Just a minute!
Rob continues to smoke his cigar but starts as he looks towards the couch.
DON
Uh-oh, boyo. Looks like we’re busted.
Horton glares at Don. Rob stands and his feet come closer and closer to the couch.
ROB
What the hell…? This is…
Rob picks up the script.
ROB
This is the story! This is the same goddamned story! Who the hell has been in here with you Iris?!
IRIS
What?
Iris comes out from the bedroom.
IRIS
What are you talking about, Rob?
ROB
“Lovers”! This story! This is the one that bastard took from-
Rob looks past Iris to the window and sees Horton’s room. He walks to the window and looks down. The broken typewriter is on the sidewalk below.
ROB
Where is he?! Where are you hiding him?!
IRIS
I have no idea what you’re-
Rob pushes Iris aside and walks towards the couch.
DON
Time for me to go.
HORTON
Wait! I need you! Who’s going to help me-
DON
You have someone else to help you now.
Rob reaches the couch and flips it over, revealing Horton, alone, face down.
HORTON
H-hello Rob.
ROB
It’s the bastard! You sneaky little shit!
Rob yanks Horton up by his collar and smacks him around the room.
ROB
Did you think I wouldn’t find you?! Did you think you could get away?! You’ll never get a thing published again you little turd!
HORTON
Let me explain!
IRIS
Stop hurting him!
Iris tries to get Rob away from Horton. Rob smacks her away.
ROB
Shut your mouth you worthless whore!
Rob continues to shake Horton. Iris approaches her desk and takes out the gun.
ROB
I’m going to take you apart piece by piece, give you over the cops so that they can take you apart even more. I’m going to-
Iris is behind him holding the gun by the nose above her head.
IRIS
“worthless whore”?!
Rob turns just as Iris brings down to butt of the gun to his neck. He falls and Horton lands in front of him.
HORTON
You… You saved me!
IRIS
No time for that. I think it’s our cue to get out of here.
Iris run into her room for a moment and returns with a suitcase. Clothes are coming out of it.
HORTON
Where… where are we going?
IRIS
They say there’s no place like Broadway. But let’s try to get a move on, okay?
Iris grabs Horton’s hand and leads him out the door. Rob is lying face down, unconscious. The gun is on the ground by the overturned couch. Don stands with one leg against the wall framed by the doorway smoking a cigarette. He takes a long drag.
DON
And that, my dear friends.
Don exhales loudly.
DON
Is the end.
Don puts out his cigarette.
THE END.