Another serial... Slippage... [try it!]

[JulieH]

ANNOUNCER: Episode 6, Over the Edge.

RECAP: Phyllis Martin came to Water Lily Square on business with the dead - the business of writing stories about tragedy and death and all that goes with it. She came to rent the apartment of Marla Dobbs, a woman who committed suicide while in the grip of a very strange delusion.

MUSIC

SOUND : RITZY RESTAURANT

SOUND: WINE POURS

PHYLLIS: Cheers.

SOUND: BOTTLE SET DOWN, GLASS PICKED UP

LEWIS: Thanks for waiting.

PHYLLIS: Talking while eating is overrated. Dad always said food is there to be enjoyed as well as digested.

LEWIS: [chuckles, then turns serious] Especially with a topic like this.

PHYLLIS: True. I don't think anyone can overhear

LEWIS: [teasing] Are you worried about spies?

PHYLLIS: I'm more worried about putting someone off their croquettes au poulon.

LEWIS: Is that how it's pronounced?

PHYLLIS: [whispered] I have no idea.

LEWIS: Well, I hate to seem easy or anything, but after such a good meal, I suppose it's time for me to put out.

PHYLLIS: [tsks teasingly]

LEWIS: I'm going to sound like a complete cliché, but Marla Dobbs was my last case before qualifying for my pension, a severe case of short-timers - as they say.

MUSIC

AMB: TUNNELS, ECHOES

TRENT : [breathing deeply, still trying to clear his head] Jeez that was weird.

RENAULT: What?

TRENT: Buzzing... everything went red and swirly. Must be some sort of power lines through here. Subsonics.

RENAULT: [really concerned] But it's gone now?

TRENT: Yeah. Let's get moving before someone turns it on again.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS FOR A MOMENT

RENAULT: I've moved most everyone out of the lion's potential path.

TRENT: Great. I heard her over this way... I think--

RENAULT: Sound can be deceptive down here.

TRENT: Oh.

RENAULT: What do you do when you find her?

TRENT: I've got a muzzle and a mild tranquilizer. I really don't want to have to take her out of here unconscious - she weighs a freaking ton. If I can trank her and get the harness on, she'll come quietly enough.

RENAULT: Raised in captivity?

TRENT: Bottle-fed. They keep shifting poor old Lulabelle from show to show so the animal rights activists can't try and steal her - if they "return her to the wild" like they keep threatening, she... well she just wouldn't make it.

RENAULT: Without herds of free range poodles?

TRENT: [laughs]

SOUND: LION ROAR

RENAULT: This way.

MUSIC

SOUND: FEET APPROACH, SLIGHT ECHO

FRIEDA: Here - this one is my favorite.

SAM: [shya] Favorite? [mary voice, very quiet] Shame! [normal, self deprecating laugh] Sorry. I really don't mean to sound so ... I dunno. Sorry. Please continue.

FRIEDA: You're not the first, though it is not a bad thing that we are a bit out of the way for people to come merely to scoff.

SAM: So it's only the protestors who make the effort?

FRIEDA: [weary] Yes. But mostly only very recently.

SAM: Mostly?

FRIEDA: When we opened, there was an article in the paper, and everyone turned out to picket the notorious Suicide Museum. But papa ignored them and they went away.

SAM: Some people protest just for the publicity.

FRIEDA: Some. There have always been the letters as well, and the blogs.

SAM: Those wacky blogs. So, show me your favorite. I only scoff because - well, I guess because it makes me... uncomfortable, and I don't... I just don't understand. Isn't it human nature to joke about things that make us nervous?

FRIEDA: [smiling] You are surprisingly perceptive ...for a deliveryman.

SAM: Ooh. Scoff received. Straight to the heart. Let's move on.

FRIEDA: [laughs, then composes herself with a deep breath] Right around the corner here.

SOUND: A COUPLE STEPS, THEN THEY STOP.

SAM: Hold up. Is it - gruesome? I mean, should I prepare myself?

FRIEDA: No, not particularly. Just... pathetic.

SOUND: STEPS

FRIEDA: See what you can deduce, without reading the note.

MUSIC

MARLA: It was almost twenty years, this time, before I died. A plague swept across the face of the earth and took a lot of people with it. Including me. The funny thing was, the whole time I had this feeling like "this isn't real anyway", and just kind of assumed that I would wake up again, after being dead - and I'll tell you, after bleeding out most of your orifices with your skin on fire, death is a real relief.

MUSIC

SOUND: HOSPITAL NOISES

DOCTOR: Miss Winters?

ABIGAIL: [mumbled, but clear] No autographs. Please.

MUSIC

PHYLLIS: I hope you don't mind if I stop you on occasion so I can take notes - I have a recorder, but had to dump it into the computer. Plus, the transcription software doesn't do real well with just anyone's voice. I'll whittle it down and dictate it in later.

LEWIS: Voice recognition? What's the world coming to? [joking sententious] Why, in my day, we had to type everything into the computer by hand...

PHYLLIS: [chuckles] At least you said "computer" - if you started talking about your old smith-corona, I woulda had to call you on it. You're not that old.

LEWIS: We cops age differently. [joking] It's like dog years. [weary] It wears you down.

PHYLLIS: [beat] What do you do with your copious free time, now?

LEWIS: I thought I'd be out there fishing and cruising the world and... stuff, but instead I just watch a lot of cop shows and try to get my twenty minutes in on the bowflex three times a week. [beat] And mooch dinner off every writer who wants to hear about some melancholy chapter of crime history.

PHYLLIS: Nice segue.

LEWIS: Especially pretty writers.

PHYLLIS: Smooth, too.

LEWIS: I'm just making up for the fact that the Marla Dobbs suicide - well, it really wasn't that interesting, aside from the purely medical, and I feel like I got you to feed me under false pretenses.

PHYLLIS: Not interesting? Meaning...?

LEWIS: No indication of foul play, no mystery, no cryptic suicide note-- Just a plain "goodbye, life sucks," kind of thing.

PHYLLIS: And a very strange on-line journal.

LEWIS: That damned journal.

PHYLLIS: Do you take the stance it was deliberate fiction, or delusional ranting?

LEWIS: I don't know - it's hard to tell fact from fiction at the best of times, particularly without a live author to explain. The shrinks were even undecided. Most just refused comment. You can never really know what's inside someone else's head.

PHYLLIS: The episodes she outlined were very rich in detail.

LEWIS: So are the ones in your books.

PHYLLIS: Touché.

MUSIC

MARLA: The yellow girl was omnipresent during those dark months, both before and during my death. She was the poster child for the quarantine movement, and her face was on the news, billboards, and even on candy wrappers: "AREN'T THEY WORTH IT?" with her huge, haunted stare. Of course, when I call her YELLOW, I don't mean she's crayola-colored or jaundiced - she has bright yellow hair and always wears a yellow dress which is sort of Alice in Wonderland-y. Always.

MUSIC

[JulieH]

MUSIC

SOUND: HOSPITAL NOISES, RUSTLING OF BED LINEN

ABIGAIL: [wakes suddenly, spluttering] Where on god's green earth is my coffee?

NURSE: Ma'am?

ABIGAIL: Where am I?

NURSE: Hospital. You were shot.

MUSIC

AMB: INSIDE

SOUND: FEET MOUNT STAIRS

WILLARD: Hello? Miss? I'm here for my film?

SOUND: MORE STEPS, THEN DOOR OPENS

WILLARD: Hello?

SOUND: CLOCKWORKS, MUFFLED

WILLARD: Damn.

SOUND: STOMPS TO DOOR AND FLINGS IT OPEN

SOUND: CLOCKWORKS LOUD

OSTRAKOV: [humming]

SOUND: TINKERING

WILLARD: Hello? Hello, have you seen--?

SOUND: SLIGHT SQUEAK OF DOOR

JENNY: Me?

WILLARD: Whoah! Um, yeah. Is this a friend of yours?

JENNY: He doesn’t seem to see or hear you. Or ...me. [mystified] He just... goes on with his work.

WILLARD: ...Like clockwork.

JENNY: [strange, considering] yes.

WILLARD: So. My film?

JENNY: [sigh] It was stolen.

WILLARD: What?

JENNY: [wry] At gunpoint.

WILLARD: I've only been gone an hour!

JENNY: It was that guy - the killer.

WILLARD: Really? He waltzed in, stole the film, and left you breathing?

JENNY: I have no idea. He just wanted the film.

WILLARD: Damn. Those security females will never buy this.

JENNY: Sorry.

WILLARD: I don't suppose you'd be willing to come along and let them know what happened?

JENNY: [matter of fact] I'd jump off a roof first.

MUSIC

LILY: Marla?

MARLA: It's the first time I'd heard her voice. She sounded just the way you'd expect an eight-year old terminally blonde child to sound. I opened my eyes - I'd been keeping them tightly shut, just in case she planned to topple some piece of stone or something on me - the one thing I knew I really didn’t want to do was dodge a little and die slow, you know?

MUSIC

SOUND: DOOR OPENS

SOUND: LIGHT SWITCH CLICKS ON

LEWIS: So what do you know?

PHYLLIS: Did you bring the crime scene photos?

LEWIS: Before you see them - what have you gathered so far?

PHYLLIS: Hmm.

SOUND: SLOW FOOTSTEPS

PHYLLIS: The few news reports I managed to find - sad, isn't it, our world is so jaded that death is barely worth reporting any more? [beat] Well, they said she was found over here -

LEWIS: [noncommittal] Mm.

PHYLLIS: This must be the hook she hung herself from.

LEWIS: What?

MUSIC

SOUND: BACK GATE OF TRUCK SLAMS SHUT

BOB: That was quick.

TRENT: It was... [puzzled] How long was I gone?

BOB: Half hour? Forty-five minutes? Something like that?

TRENT: I-- it's weird. It's fuzzy.

BOB: But you got Lulabelle?

TRENT: [beat] I'll make sure it's all locked now.

SOUND: ROLLS THE GATE BACK UP

SOUND: LION GROWL

BOB: Whew. That's a relief.

TRENT: Yeah...

BOB: Shit, Unk, that derelict give you a drink or something?

TRENT: [snapped awake] What? No!

BOB: Lean in.

TRENT: No. I haven't had a drop. Even if I had, forty five minutes isn't enough time to ... to get so--

BOB: [cold] To have a blackout? Whatever. You're not driving.

TRENT: We still don't have Mushmouth anyway.

BOB: What?

TRENT: Mushmouth. [beat] The chimp.

SOUND: GATE SLAMS SHUT

BOB: [just plain angry] We never had a chimp.

TRENT: Yes, we--

BOB: [snarled] Get in.

LEONA: [out of nowhere] Fraid not.

TRENT: Oh?

BOB: [belligerent] He's not going to drive.

LEONA: Sorry, sir, since you were driving during the incident, we need you to come fill out some paperwork--

TRENT: Mr. Amboy said he'd handle everything--

LEONA: That's any financial arrangements. This is just reports for our files.

TRENT: But--

LEONA: These never go to the cops. It's really just a formality. Can your friend finish your deliveries alone?

TRENT: Yeah. Right Bob?

SOUND: TRUCK DOOR SLAMS, TRUCK REVS

MUSIC

AMB: VERY FAINT, THE SOUND OF CHILDREN PLAYING FADES IN

SAM: [thinking and examining the scene in the museum] I see a woman, in a frilly bedroom. She's young, but not a kid, though it's hard to tell from her face. There's a yearbook open on the bed, among the stuffed animals.

FRIEDA: What else?

SOUND: SLOW FOOTSTEPS

SAM: An antique vanity covered in cosmetics, and anti-aging creams. And ... wait--?

FRIEDA: You hear it?

SAM: Children? Is that part of the--

FRIEDA: Yes.

SAM: So this woman hung herself rather than grow old?

FRIEDA: [slightly agreeing] Mm.

MUSIC

LEWIS: Hung?

PHYLLIS: Yes.

LEWIS: [genuinely puzzled] Is that what the papers said?

PHYLLIS: Right here in this window. The neighbor - one of those over on the next building - phoned it in.

LEWIS: [concerned] Let me see.

PHYLLIS: Sure.

SOUND: PAPERS SHUFFLE

PHYLLIS: Here's my printouts.

SOUND: PAPERS FLIP

LEWIS: [vehement, quiet] This can't be right. It's not right.

PHYLLIS: What? A cover up?

LEWIS: No - nothing like that. [slowing] I don't... think. Look, either I have a severe case of old-timer's coming on, or--

SOUND: SNAPS BRIEFCASE OPEN, SHUFFLE OF PHOTOGRAPHS

PHYLLIS: --or?

SOUND: PHOTO SLID OUT OF STACK

LEWIS: This is Marla Dobbs, right? The woman we're talking about?

PHYLLIS: [confused] Marla. [looks over the photo] Yes.

LEWIS: You're sure?

PHYLLIS: Yes.

LEWIS: Hold on.

SOUND: PHOTOS FLIPPING, THEN STOP

PHYLLIS: Stop dancing around - what's wrong?

LEWIS: This.

SOUND: SNAP OF A PHOTO BEING FLIPPED OVER TOWARD HER

PHYLLIS: [curious] So--? [realizing] What?

SOUND: PHOTO SNATCHED

PHYLLIS: But this--

LEWIS: Is the crime scene I saw.

PHYLLIS: Where'd all the... blood... come from?

LEWIS: Marla Dobbs slashed herself - dozens of times - and bled out.

MUSIC

LILY: Reality is a little - mutable.

MARLA: The words sound weird coming out of a child.

LILY: There are so many different realities, you see, that anything not only can happen - it is happening, right this minute. If you move into the right reality, you can be anywhere.

MARLA: She stops in the middle of the street, looking at me. Expecting a reaction. I search my mind, then blurt out, "Are you-- God?" Her face drops, losing any trace of a smile. She looks like she's about to cry.

LILY: I think I might be.

MARLA: But she doesn't sound godlike at all when she whispers--

LILY: Please don't hate me.

[end of episode]

[JulieH]

ANNOUNCER: Episode 7, Little Fears

RECAP: While Phyllis entertained Detective Lewis, the policeman that had investigated her current pet suicide, Trent managed to get Lulabelle back into her cage, but even as he found her, he lost something far more precious - time. Not something new to a man of his nature, but he didn't recall doing anything to deserve it ... this time. And somewhere else entirely, an elderly woman awakens in her hospital bed.

HEAVILY ALTERED VOICE: Slippage.....

MUSIC

ABIGAIL: [awake and petulant] I am ready to leave.

NURSE: Doctor Green wants to keep you here a little longer. You've been through a very trying--

ABIGAIL: Oh, pish. I've had worse. It barely even hurts any more. Dr. Green can find someone else to pad his bloody Medicare account.

NURSE: Ma'am!

ABIGAIL: Goodness child, you're going to have to grow much thicker skin if you hope to make it in nursing. "Ball up" as they say.

NURSE: [gasp, trying not to laugh] I can't believe you said that.

ABIGAIL: Who says little old ladies can't be foul mouthed? Now fetch me the doctor before I really start in.

MUSIC

SOUND : TRUCK STARTS UP, POUND ON THE SIDE

TRENT: [calling to truck] Bob? I'll get it sorted out.

BOB: [dismissive] Whatever.

SOUND: TRUCK DRIVES AWAY

TRENT: [yelling] Bob! [losing steam] Dammit, Bob!

LEONA: What was that all about?

TRENT: [thinks, then] Can you do me an enormous favor, Officer?

LEONA: Security officer. S.O. Leona. We're not supposed to use standard police titles. Confuses people.

TRENT: Right. Whatever. Can you help me?

LEONA: That's what I'm here for.

TRENT: [fearful but determined] Do you... have a breathalyzer handy?

MUSIC

SOUND: FILTERED SOMEHOW

SOUND: OCCASIONAL CLINK OF CHINA

LILY: Are we moving too fast?

RENAULT: Time is an issue.

LILY: We've failed so many times.

RENAULT: I know. I wish I could make this easier.

LILY: I don't know what I would do without you!

RENAULT: [self deprecating laugh] You'd get by. Are these the only ones this time?

LILY: [yes] Uh-huh. Just six. I don't want it to get too messy. [beat] Would you like another cookie?

RENAULT: Don't mind if I do.

SOUND: CRACKLE OF A WRAPPER, DUNKING A COOKIE IN MILK

LILY: [GIGGLES]

MUSIC

SOUND: CLOCKWORKS

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, clockworks get louder

SOUND: DOOR PUSHED OPEN

OSTRAKOV: [Humming]

JENNY: I wish I understood all this. Is it even real?

OSTRAKOV: [Humming]

SOUND: JENNY MOVES THROUGH THE SHOP

JENNY: You have all these wonderful things. I don't even know what most of them are. It can't be that you're just deaf, since I stood right in front of you and waved my arms.

OSTRAKOV: [Humming]

JENNY: And you look sort of ... familiar. Do I know you?

OSTRAKOV: [Humming stops suddenly]

SOUND: SOMETHING METALLIC CLATTERS

JENNY: [excited and scared] Hello?

OSTRAKOV: [Humming begins again]

JENNY: No! I said something you heard, didn't I? What was it? Please listen!

OSTRAKOV: [Humming]

JENNY: [suppressed anger] What is wrong with you?

OSTRAKOV: [Humming stops, croaky old voice] You, of all, should know, focus has no I.

JENNY: No... "I"--?

OSTRAKOV: No. It is you. [Humming begins again]

JENNY: [puzzled] Oh.

MUSIC

AMB: HOSPITAL

SOUND: HURRIED FEET APPROACH

DOCTOR: [coming on] Miss Winters. You should return to your bed--

ABIGAIL: I've already signed myself out. Shoo.

DOCTOR: But you can't--

ABIGAIL: Of course I can. I promise not to drive or operate heavy machinery within the next twenty-four hours.

NURSE: And you'll go straight home?

ABIGAIL: No, mother. I have things to do.

DOCTOR: You're going to have a relapse--

ABIGAIL: I feel quite enervated. Or is that the one that means lackadaisical - I can never keep those straight. And before you start wondering about my state of mind, you should check act 3, scene 8 of Martina Dimple's "Homage to a Grande Dame" - that's where I'm quoting from.

NURSE: No one thinks you're--

DOCTOR: There's nothing I can say to convince you?

ABIGAIL: Short of chloroform, you can't even slow me down. Ah - there's my cab!

NURSE: You should at least let us know where to send the test results?

ABIGAIL: I'm staying at the Bed and Breakfast in Water Lily Square.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS, BIG SLIDING DOOR

NURSE: Even after--?

DOCTOR: [musing] Even after being shot there.

MUSIC

PHYLLIS: How could we be talking about two completely different death scenes?

LEWIS: [very disturbed] I don't know.

PHYLLIS: It's the same apartment, same woman, but two different versions of her death?

LEWIS: And both suicides.

PHYLLIS: Are you still so sure?

LEWIS: Coroner ruled. Said none of the slashes - none of those in my crime scene - were inconsistent with a self-inflicted angle - right there.

PHYLLIS: But the papers all show Marla having hung herself.

LEWIS: Yeah. Unless.

PHYLLIS: Unless?

LEWIS: [making up his mind, then] There's someone right across the way who's used to staging scenes like this.

SOUND: FOOTSTEPS

LEWIS: You said you were there when someone got shot at the protest?

SOUND: DOOR OPENS DECISIVELY

PHYLLIS: Yes, why?

LEWIS: Coming?

MUSIC

AMB: OUTSIDE, EVENING

SOUND: FEET ON SIDEWALK, SLIGHT ECHO

RENAULT: [slightly off] Heading out?

WILLARD: Who the hell--? Oh, the wandering philosopher.

RENAULT: Sometimes. You planning on leaving?

WILLARD: On my way, actually. My car has failed to arrive, so I've resigned myself to a brisk walk.

RENAULT: Might be further than you think.

WILLARD: Well. It's more promising than sticking around. I've made too much of a spectacle of myself. And I think that peace officer has her beady little eye on me.

RENAULT: [amused] She has a taser.

WILLARD: And you wonder why I want to leave? If I wore a hat, I would tip it. Good evening.

RENAULT: Be seeing you.

WILLARD: [muttered] Doubtful. [up, calling back over his shoulder, sarcastic] Oh, yes. Next time you're at the Hilton, ring me up.

SOUND: FEET RECEDE

SOUND: RENAULT WHISTLES HUSH LITTLE BABY

MUSIC

[JulieH]

[reminder - harsh language]

SOUND: HEAVY BREATH/ BREATHALYZER


LEONA: Nothing.

TRENT: [sigh of deep relief]

LEONA: Why'd you want to--?

TRENT: I think I ran into something underground - gas or something - I sort of blanked out there for a while.

LEONA: Blanked out?

TRENT: I saw something -

LEONA: Those tunnels go all over the place. No one, except maybe that Renault guy, has a clue what's down there.

TRENT: It was - it's like every time I get close to what I saw - poking around in my memory - my thoughts just... slide off to some old kids' show.

LEONA: What show?

TRENT: Can't remember the name. Something with dinosaurs, but it's not dinosaurs that are making me think of it. It's-- something glowing. [straining noise] Shit, I'm giving myself a cluster headache. [sigh] You still need me to stick around?

MUSIC

AMB: CHILDREN PLAYING SOUNDS IN THE BACKGROUND

SAM: Why is this one your favorite? I'm serious - I mean I'm curious. Not being snarky.

FRIEDA: It's the trap of vanity. Papa made her an average woman, not some supermodel, because no one really feels much connection to a supermodel or a famous person.

SAM: They don't seem really - well, real.

FRIEDA: Yes. And the money they have. This woman had to scrimp and save for her petty vanities. See the exercise equipment just showing under the bed?

SAM: Why the children? In the background?

FRIEDA: Counterpointing age with youth, and perhaps to show that she sacrificed even the immortality of having children on the altar of her own vanity.

SAM: That's a lot to read in.

FRIEDA: That's why everyone comes to study them. Father has worked--

SOUND: [distant] CRASH

FRIEDA: What-- is it the--?

SAM: Shh. [whispered] I'll take a look.

MUSIC

AMB: OUTDOORS, EMPTY ALLEY

SOUND: FEET, ECHOEY, CONTINUE UNDER

WILLARD: Cheap little bastard bureaucrats. Whose brainchild was this "one streetlight per block" motif they've gone with? [beat, then fading out] I don't remember a turn when I came in. This WAS the way out, wasn't it--?

SOUND: FEET FADE OUT WITH VOICE

SOUND: OTHER FEET FADE IN

TRENT: [muttering affirmations]

SOUND: TRENT'S FEET FADE WITH HIS VOICE

SOUND: RUNNING FEET COME IN, THEN STOP

WILLARD: [breathing heavily] Dammit. It's like a goddamn maze. Not a single damn sign anywhere. Even bloody ariadne had a ball of yarn. [thinks]

RENAULT: [quiet] Theseus.

WILLARD: [screams, startled out of his wits]

RENAULT: Greek mythology that important to you?

WILLARD: [breathing even more heavily, insistent] Show me how to get out of here!

RENAULT: Can't do that.

WILLARD: But you can't be lost - you live here!

RENAULT: Not lost, just not heading that way. Can show you the way back in, though.

WILLARD: [snarl] No. I need to get out of here.

RENAULT : Good luck with that.

SOUND: SOLITARY FEET GO OFF. BEAT, THEN SECOND PAIR RUN OFF IN THE SAME DIRECTION

SOUND: LONELY STREET FOR A MOMENT, THEN FEET SLOWLY APPROACH

TRENT: Damn, I should have come full circle by now - got back to the square. All you have to do is follow the right hand--

LILY: Whose right hand?

TRENT: Little girl? What are you doing? You shouldn't be out this late!

LILY: I was looking for you.

TRENT: Me? Why?

LILY: Because you're lost.

TRENT: [disbelieving chuckle] But--?

LILY: You can follow my hand if you want. [makes a swooshing noise, like an aeroplane] I can get you back.

TRENT: Back?

LILY: Back where you're needed.

TRENT: But this - all this - is--

LILY: [encouraging] uh-huh?

TRENT: It's blowing my mind.

LILY: I'm very sorry. Is your mind OK?

TRENT: My [breaks into laughter] what? I'm just scared.

LILY: [dead honest] Me too.

TRENT: [sarcastic] Why should you be scared? A little kid out in the middle of the night by herself. How old are you anyway?

LILY: [evasive] How - how old do I look?

TRENT: I dunno. Eight? Ten? Or are you some kind of freaky midget?

LILY: You're - you're confusing me. Let me take you back.

SOUND: SHE TAKES A COUPLE OF STEPS, THEN STOPS

LILY: Come along.

SOUND: TWO SETS OF FOOTSTEPS

MUSIC

AMB: OUTSIDE, SOME NOISE - CAFÉ ETC.

SOUND: FEET

PHYLLIS: They're going to be closed.

LEWIS: [grim] I don't care. They'll open for me.

PHYLLIS: You don't have any standing any more!

SOUND: FEET STOP

LEWIS: Shit. You're right - I forget. But this is gonna drive me crazy until I--. Yeah, I guess it's kind of idiotic.

PHYLLIS: It's kind of cute.

LEWIS: [laughs self-deprecatingly] Damn, I still think like a cop.

PHYLLIS: [beat] Since we're this close, it won't hurt to check the hours they're open.

MUSIC

SOUND: FEET ENTER SQUARE, SLOW

WILLARD: Lovely. Now I can call a cab.

RENAULT: Not tonight. No one comes out here.

WILLARD: Out here? Out here? If your streets had a minimum of mandatory municipal lighting, I could walk back to the center of town in fifteen minutes.

RENAULT: Cabs get picky at night. Better to find a place to stay.

WILLARD: Oh, yes, I see vacancy signs all...over... When did that come on? I was just staring right at it? [beat, whips round] Philosopher? What--? Damn!

MUSIC

SOUND: IN A CAR

ABIGAIL: [talking on the cell phone] And the press releases? [chuckles] Never hurts to get your face in front of the public again - particularly as a stricken victim. [beat] Of course I'm going back. [beat] Nonsense. I can barely feel it, and I have plenty of little pills to make sure I continue to-- [beat, sigh] It was a wild shot in a crowd. You think someone wants to kill me? How ludicrous. What? What? Sorry - I'm losing you. I'll call you in the morning - in the morning. Mor-ning!

SOUND: HANG UP CELL PHONE

ABIGAIL: [chuckles]

SOUND: TURNS OFF PHONE

ABIGAIL: Silly worrywort, Marla.

[continued]

[JulieH]

MUSIC

AMB: INDOORS, SOFT MUSIC

SOUND: SNORING [WILLARD]

SOUND : DOOR OPENS, BELL JINGLES

TRENT: Hello? Hello?

WILLARD: [half awake grumble] There's no one here.

TRENT: But this is - they said -

WILLARD: They even have a vacancy sign, and still no one comes - by all means, ding away. I've already put it through its paces once.

SOUND: MOMENT OF HESITATION, THEN THE BELL DINGS

TRENT: What do we do?

WILLARD: Well I would suggest the settee, here, but I'm not inclined to buddy up.

TRENT: Well--

SOUND: DOOR OPENS, BELL RINGS

TRENT AND WILLARD: [grunts as they check out the newcomer]

ABIGAIL: You didn't have turn everyone out. It's not as if I have excess baggage.

SOUND: [outside] CAB DRIVES AWAY

WILLARD: [suddenly awake] Damn!

SOUND: RUNS TO DOOR, SLAMS IT OPEN - CAB IS TOO FAR AWAY

WILLARD: Bloody goddamn it all to hell! Who could have ever freaking imagined there were such effing sh*tholes right in the middle of civilization!

TRENT: [trying to shush him] Dude. [to Abigail] I'm not with him.

ABIGAIL: Obviously.

WILLARD: [turning back] Stupid bastard sonofabitch idiots--

SOUND: DOOR SWINGS SHUT, BELL DINGS

WILLARD: --oh. My god - you're - you're Abigail Winters!

ABIGAIL: [even and smiling throughout] Well, it's nice to know someone recognizes me, even if is the most disgustingly foul mouthed smarmy puling sonofabitch bloody buggery baboon it has been my sodding misfortune to meet in recent memory.

SOUND: SILENCE, THEN DING

NINA: Welcome to the Blossom Inn, can I help you?

CLOSER

[Thomas Rippert]

Was this ever done?

[JulieH]

Nope. Got set aside for the time being (WAY back then), but it's particularly funny, since I was discussing this with Lothar just last week.

I wish I had enough hands to produce all the things I write (or to finish writing all the things i start!)

Someday I will have minions and then.... muhahahahahaha .... I will take over the world!!!