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FADE IN:
PHOTO MONTAGE of Los Angeles club scene.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY
Angry FAT MAN: tobacco filled cheeks, small pit stained tank
top, banging RUSTY door, APARTMENT #5.
Crumpled NOTICE in fist.
FAT MAN
Open up you little fuckers!
(long beat)
I know you two fuckin' vampires are in
there. Three days...I mean it, pay or get
the fuck out!
Reaching into mouth: FAT MAN yanking out CHEW, plastering to
door, then slamming NOTICE on top.
(bold red lettering) 3 DAY NOTICE OF EVICTION
Super the legend - DEEP HOLLYWOOD, TUESDAY
INT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
Shades drawn, cracks of daylight peeking through.
Panning across rain damaged walls, ceiling holding DE-
NIRO/SCORSESE posters: MEAN STREETS - RONIN.
FILTH, POVERTY. Ashtrays overflowing, boxes of headshots,
collection notices lining counters.
VARIETY on floor: DE NIRO, exiting THE RAT TRAP.
Caption: DE NIRO ENTERTAINS AFTER HOURS.
SCREENPLAY on floor: TAXI DRIVER II, by The Cappy, Stroke.
STROKE, 28, handsome, on top of JEN 1, 23, blonde, covered in
blankets, whispering softly.
JEN 1
I like that Stroke.
STROKE
(De Niro)
You talkin' to me?
JEN 1
Yes, I'm talkin' to you.
STROKE
Say `Bobby's your Daddy.'
JEN 1
You said your name was Stroke?
STROKE
Sshh, quiet time. Say it, say it.
The sound of suppressed male/female laughter.
JEN 1
What was that? They're awake.
STROKE
No, that's snoring. Just call me Bobby D
once, please.
Male/female laughter erupting.
In the corner laughing: THE CAPPY, 28, handsome, next to JEN
2, brunette.
The Cappy standing, ripping open drapes.
THE CAPPY
Give it up Stroke, you don't sound
anything like De Niro.
STROKE
Shut-up Cappy, I'm good.
PHONE RINGING.
JEN 2
He wasn't that bad.
JEN 1
What, you heard all that?
JEN 2
Maybe older De Niro: The Fan, or like
Heat, you know. You gonna get the phone?
THE CAPPY
We can't, Mr. Bickle got it already.
IN CORNER: MR. BICKLE, 12, mangy pound puppy rope tethered to
a big rock chewing the V-TECH HANDSET.
Answering machine picking up.
EST./EXT. INTERNATIONAL ARTISTS AGENCY - DAY
Hovering taller than others. Spotless mirrored glass.
INT. INTERNATIONAL ARTISTS AGENCY - DAY
ALL PHONE CONVERSATIONS INTERCUT.
RICHARD'S OFFICE --
Plush penthouse office overlooking Sunset Strip.
Handsome talent agent, RICHARD, 28, casually pedaling a
stationary bicycle wearing a dark Armani, phone headset.
Rifling The Hollywood Reporter, he's FEATURED on COVER.
Richard, hopping from bike to desk. Multi-tasking: one hand
drawing penises on STROKE, THE CAPPY'S headshots, the other
thumbing a script, TAXI DRIVER II, tearing out single pages.
THE CAPPY (V.O.)
You've reached the production office of
The Cappy and Stroke...we're either at a
pitch meeting...
STROKE (V.O.)
(excited)
...Or on the set.
THE CAPPY (V.O.)
If you're calling regarding our upcoming
screenplay, page us at 213-555-2249, or
try us on the cell. Peace out.
The MACHINE'S beep starts, then continues.
RICHARD
(sotto)
Read your script. Never! Dennis Woodruff
wannabees. If you fuckers only knew
how...
The beep stops.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
(fishing)
...Talented, very talented boys you are.
(perky)
Hey, Cappy, Stroke, Richard. Long beep.
You around? Sendin' you guys out like
crazy. Script, love it. Shoppin' it.
Listen, meeting 1:00, today. Paul Thomas
Anderson, Hard Eight, Boogie Nights,
Magnolia. Script delivery just went out.
Call to confirm this time. Damonaffleck
boys. Enjoy the ride. And Cappy, by the
way, tell your cousin Shriner to call
asap.
Richard combining script pages, headshots: crumpling, SWISH
into trash can, hitting button on phone with five names
crossed out, now reading SHANNON.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
Kin Shriner call yet?
INT. SHANNON'S DESK - INTERCUT - DAY
Answering; SHANNON, 25, attractive actress hopeful
highlighting Cliff Notes of "A Midsummer Night's Dream."
SHANNON
Not yet Richey.
Richard punching button labeled, BELINDA ext. 9984.
INT. BELINDA'S CUBICLE - INTERCUT - DAY
BELINDA, 28, attractive, junior agent, cluttered desk.
CLOSE UP -- picture on desk: HERSELF, RICHARD, graduation
caps, Harvard Law sweatshirts.
RICHARD
Ciao Bella. Need more headshots.
BELINDA
I'm not in the Mailroom anymore Dick.
Wanna grab lunch today?
RICHARD
Stop it! Stop with the Dick.
BELINDA
Sensitive are we? Stormy seas in
paradise?
RICHARD
Stormy? Lake Placid. One more audition
and I cut the cord on Crappy and The
Joke.
BELINDA
Shall I remind you of Jack Weiner, the
Old Turk, our boss, who just fired
Jacobowitz for the same thing. For
someone in your position, seems like a
big mistake.
RICHARD
Who cares about the Old Turd WEENER?
BELINDA
Not worth it. They Coppolla's?
RICHARD
Nah, I checked. But, The Cappy's related
to Kin Shriner, a major soapactor at CAA.
I string `em along, pretend to be their
agent, then set up auditions so late they
could never make it. I nuzzle up to
Shriner, Ovitz move. Oh look, there's
another ten percent for me.
BELINDA
The Kin Shriner? Scotty Baldwin?
RICHARD
I don't know, never watch TV. Beach
House, 1:00?
BELINDA
Great, never been. Can I drive your car?
RICHARD
Never. Separate cars. Gotta jump!
Richard punching phone console, SHANNON.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
Kin Shriner call? Fuck! Listen carefully
this time Shannon. Write it down.
Shannon prepared, poised with a pencil.
SHANNON
Okay Richey, ready when you are.
RICHARD
Caruso's trailer, too small...
Shannon's pencil tip snapping, unable to write.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
...Jimmy's trainer, no. Winona's chef,
yes. And uh, what else? That's it. No
wait, put that Paul Thomas Anderson
script for delivery to the stepkids,
late, LATE delivery.
SHANNON
Got it.
INT. RICHARD'S OFFICE - DAY
Richard ripping off headset, feet on desk. Picking up
REPORTER, his image smiling back.
RICHARD
God, she loves me. I love me.
INT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
The Cappy, Stroke yelling to girls from kitchenette.
THE CAPPY
Hey Jen?
JEN 1
What?
JEN 2
Yeah.
STROKE
You got a Jen?
THE CAPPY
Course double Jens again. You didn't
know?
The Cappy taps Stroke's shoulder.
STROKE
You Jens hungry? There's an IHOP across
the street?
JEN 2
No thanks, I had a cigarette earlier.
JEN 1
Me too. We're good.
THE CAPPY
Fuck.
The Cappy taking charge, tossing JENS clothes.
THE CAPPY
Alright party's over. Everybody out!
JEN 2
But we just got here.
STROKE
You heard the machine, we got an
audition.
THE CAPPY
We're up and coming movie stars. Bye-bye
ladies.
Stroke cracking door open. The Cappy steering girls out.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD STREET - DAY
JEN 1, JEN 2 doing `walk of shame' back to car, passing GAY
TIMMY, 28, Asian model type, THE SOCK, 28, Black actor type
porting twelve packs.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD APARTMENT COMPLEX - DAY
The Cappy, on artificial turf, leaning into apartment.
THE CAPPY
Here comes the party bus.
(yelling outside)
Bye ladies, we'll call.
UNSEEN: eviction notice sliding down open door.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD STREET - DAY
A GOLD FIREBIRD. PHOENIX, T-TOPS, headed into sun.
INT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
The Cappy enters tearing bar napkin, (818) phone number.
Dropping the two pieces, resting together: THE RAT TRAP.
Enter Gay Timmy, The Sock.
THE SOCK
Seven Mary three and four, don't know if
you realize boys, but you hooked up with
Poncharello and Baker.
GAY TIMMY
Baker was cuter though.
STROKE
Told you.
Mr. Bickle humping Gay Timmy's leg.
GAY TIMMY
Your dog sucks.
STROKE
Cap, last time we walked Bickle?
THE CAPPY
Give `em a Pebbles, he's okay.
Stroke feeds Bickle handful of Flintstone's chewables.
THE SOCK
Party bus, party bus, whoop, whoop!
Gay Timmy flashing huge baggy of cocaine, handle of a gun
glistening in waistband.
THE CAPPY
Later Gay Tim, later. We'll get our party
on tonight at The Rat Trap. We got an
audition. See ya guys.
The Cappy, Stroke closing door on boys.
INT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
The Cappy, Stroke collapsing onto mattress.
THE CAPPY
Hour nap, set the alarm. This is the one
we've been waiting for. Shades of death,
close `em.
Stroke stretching for drape cord, knocking ALARM to floor.
FLASHING 12:00.
STROKE
Done.
All is DARK.
STROKE
Paul Thomas Anderson, who? We deserve
better. When do we read for Scorsese?
THE CAPPY
Baby steps Stroke, baby steps. This is
step one, let's not fuck it up.
STROKE
You're so right. That's why you're the
Captain, and I'm just a rower.
THE CAPPY
Okay Stroke, quiet time...Ssshhh.
STROKE
Cappy...
THE CAPPY
Go to sleep Stroke!
CUT TO BLACK:
EXT. BEACH HOUSE RESTAURANT - DAY
VALET STATION --
Richard jerking BLACK HUMMER in front of restaurant talking
on cell.
Smiling ATTENDANT, name tag JESUS opening door.
RICHARD
Shannon, Kin Shriner call?
SHANNON
Nope.
RICHARD
Fuck! The second he does, call me.
Richard hanging up cell.
JESUS
Buenas tardes, Mr...
RICHARD
...Up front Poncho. Scratch it, you're
fired. Si?
Belinda skidding OLD REDDISH CABRIOLET in front.
JESUS
Good afternoon ma'am.
Belinda darting from paint deficient Cabriolet.
BELINDA
Park it around the corner please, leave
the keys under the mat, I'll pick it up
myself, thanks.
The Cabriolet gurgling, then stalling.
BELINDA (CONT'D)
Shit!
Motorists exiting cars, tossing keys at busy Jesus.
JESUS
(frazzled)
Enjoy your lunch.
JESUS hopping in, pops head out.
BELINDA
Touch the red and yellow wires together
first, it was stolen two years ago.
Sorry.
INT. BEACH HOUSE - DAY
Richard cell, checking Rolex, Belinda eavesdropping.
RICHARD
Okay Shannon, call Paul Thomas Anderson.
And use some of that acting class stuff I
pay for.
SHANNON
What's my motivation?
RICHARD
Your job. Just get it done. Wait don't
hang up. Cappy, Stroke call?
SHANNON
No, not yet.
RICHARD
You didn't send that script out to the
kids yet did you?
EXT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
Snail track leading to eviction notice. Arm placing NEW IAA
ENVELOPE onto doorstep.
INT. SHANNON'S DESK - DAY
Shannon's empty OUTBOX: her eyes widening.
SHANNON
Nope, gotta go!
EXT. BEACH HOUSE - DAY
Richard on cell.
RICHARD
Hello...hello. Okay great, I'll see you
in a bit.
BELINDA
She's a keeper. So, operation Kin
Shriner's a go. How do I rep a Scotty
Baldwin.
RICHARD
Can't. You're weak. Be cut throat. No
friends. Here's Kin Shriner:
Richard picking up bread roll.
RICHARD (cont'd)
I butter him up with a dream, salt him
down with misconceptions of silver screen
stardom, then I take an easy ten percent.
Richard biting off ten percent of bread roll.
BELINDA
But Richard, what about these kids? Give
them a chance.
RICHARD
Belinda, your naiveté's endearing. It's
why you're stuck bottom feeding. The
second I sign Kin Shriner is the second I
don't call the kids back.
BELINDA
Risk factor's...
RICHARD
...Zero. I send the information so late,
even if they had a car, They'd never make
it. It gets better, they're out every
night at the Rat Trap till whenever.
Belinda: blank stare.
RICHARD
You know The Rat Trap, right?
BELINDA
Ahh, Rat Trap. Ofcourse.
Belinda quickly scribbles `Rat Trap' on notepad.
BELINDA (cont'd)
Sounds like you in law school: doin' the
coke, hittin' on girls...
RICHARD
You finished? Cuz I don't have to tell
you shit. This is charity as far as I'm
concerned, Bella.
BELINDA
Alright, relax. Go on.
RICHARD
They pitched me this ridiculous
screenplay. Some Taxi Driver remake.
BELINDA
Read it?
RICHARD
Course not! I don't find new talent.
Agenting's a business baby, not
entertainment. If I have to fuck these
kids over for ten percent of Kin Shriner,
fuck `em.
BELINDA
You don't even know what Kin Shriner
looks like.
RICHARD
I know what ten percent of a million
looks like, do you? Move the decimal.
Richard raising martini glass. Belinda non-responsive.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
Why do I even bother with you? I'm the
new breed of agent, and you're not. You
ever thought about a back-up career?
Belinda destroyed. Rising, clutching cell phone.
BELINDA
Right back.
RICHARD
Come on Bella. Take a joke. I'm just
playing.
BELINDA
I know. I'm fine. Sorry.
Belinda racing inside restaurant.
INT. BEACH HOUSE BATHROOM STALL - INTERCUT - DAY
Belinda, on toilet, skirt around ankles, dialing cell.
INT. SHANNON'S DESK - INTERCUT - DAY
Shannon rehearsing `sides' into mirror.
Phone ringing. Shannon answering.
SHANNON
IAA, Richard...
BELINDA
Hey, Shannon, how's the acting you little
Academy Award winner? I need some numbers
from Richard's Rolodex, can you do that
for me?
EXT. RESTAURANT PATIO - DAY
KIN SHRINER smoking a cigar fielding a call on Nokia.
KIN SHRINER
Hel-lo.
EXT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
A RINGING PHONE.
Snail track leading to eviction notice. Door opening, arm
reaching for NEW IAA ENVELOPE on doorstep.
EXT. RTD BUS STOP BENCH - DAY
Stroke's Ray Banned face on The Cappy's shoulder. Blazing hot
sun, IAA envelope in hand.
A bus stopping alongside bench, blocking view.
INT. PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON'S WAITING ROOM - DAY
Receptionist, CHRISTY, 25, studious, phone headset on.
PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON (O.S.)
Christy, What happened to my 1:00.
CHRISTY
Just spoke with Shannon at IAA. She gave
the chicken pox excuse. Strange though,
she kept repeating everything I said,
like Meisner exercises.
EXT. RTD BUS STOP BENCH - DAY
Bus pulling away, revealing The Cappy, Stroke: UNDISTURBED.
EXT. BEACH HOUSE PATIO - DAY
Richard: cell. Belinda returning, twirling cell.
BELINDA
Cut throat, huh Richard?
Waiter dropping check for Richard. He pushes it to Belinda.
RICHARD
Exactly. Your turn.
INT. PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON'S WAITING ROOM - DAY
The Cappy, Stroke enter.
THE CAPPY
Hi there.
STROKE
Hello.
CHRISTY
Hey guys, you look lost. Go back the way
you came, turn left, a sign'll say
`extras casting' on the door.
Silence. The Cappy revealing script: BOOGIE NIGHTS II -
DIRK'S BACK, IAA appointment sheet.
CHRISTY (CONT'D)
1:00. Sorry, I apologize guys. So
you're The Cappy and Stroke?
THE CAPPY
You heard of us?
CHRISTY
Forget it. Paul, your 1:00's here.
PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON (O.S.)
Send `em on back.
The Cappy, Stroke giving each other thumbs up, enter.
INT. PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON'S OFFICE - DAY
CLOSE UP -- two sets of MOUTHS motoring, we hear nothing.
The Cappy, Stroke: standing side by side, gesticulating.
INT. PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON'S WAITING ROOM - DAY
The Cappy dropping Christy a business card.
THE CAPPY
Writers, producers, big project, De-
Niro, YOU, call me.
The Cappy, Stroke exit.
PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON (O.S.)
(yelling)
IAA Christy, I want Jack Weiner on the
phone now!
EXT. BEACH HOUSE PATIO - DAY
Belinda jotting notes. Richard sipping espresso.
RICHARD
Indy 500 back to the office?
BELINDA
More humiliation?
RICHARD
Tell you what. You win in that piece of
shit Bug of yours, you're the new owner
of a $100,000 Hummer.
BELINDA
It's a Cabriolet.
RICHARD
Whatever.
BELINDA
If I lose?
RICHARD
Hummer. Sounds fair?
BELINDA
Dick. You got yourself a deal.
EXT. BEACH HOUSE VALET STATION - DAY
Richard shaking coins in fist, chatting with suits. Belinda,
sprinting around the corner, shoes in hand.
EXT. SUNSET STRIP - DAY
Attractive women shopping, tight tops, mini dresses.
INT. RICHARD'S OFFICE - INTERCUT - DAY
Richard: feet on desk, headset, binoculars.
RICHARD
See the one in the red mini Bella?
Something like that. Makes me hornier.
Really too bad about that bus on Sunset,
almost took the checkered. You have full
coverage, right?
INT. BELINDA'S CUBICLE - INTERCUT - DAY
BELINDA
Sure thing Dick.
INT. SHANNON'S DESK - INTERCUT - DAY
SHANNON
Richey, I think you're in trouble.
Richard dropping feet from desk.
SHANNON (CONT'D)
They showed.
RICHARD
Gotta jump Bella! BJ, my house, 10:30.
What line Shannon?
SHANNON
No line, he's on his way down.
RICHARD
Okay, stall him twenty seconds.
INT. RICHARD'S OFFICE - DAY
Jack Weiner, 45, darker Armani, storming into office.
JACK
Richard...!
Shannon peeking head into open office.
SHANNON
(whisper)
Richey, Kin Shriner on four.
Richard blotting sweat with hanky, raising finger at Jack.
RICHARD
Jack wait, before you say anything. I
want you to hear this.
Richard punching SPEAKER button on phone.
RICHARD (CONT'D)
Kin, buddy, hey. We signing today? Four
Seasons, Morton's?
Richard grinning at Jack.
INT. RESTAURANT BOOTH - INTERCUT - DAY
Kin dining with lovely lady.
KIN SHRINER
(phone: short)
Listen Richard, I'm goin' with a fiery up
and comer. No more Scotty Baldwin. She
says I'd look great on the silver screen.
Thanks for the offer though.
INT. RICHARD'S OFFICE - INTERCUT - DAY
Richard taking phone off SPEAKER, turning his back on Jack.
RICHARD
(whisper)
Listen, it's a fickle business baby, you
know that. You need me.
KIN SHRINER
(shorter)
Someone's on the other line. Ciao Dick.
RICHARD
MR. SHRINER!
Kin clicking over to other line.
KIN SHRINER
So Belinda, no more Scotty B. huh?
INT. RICHARD'S OFFICE - DAY
Slamming phone onto console.
RICHARD
MR SHRINER! Fuck, fuck, fuckers.
Jack, pointing finger at Richard.
JACK
You're a mess Richard. Sweep this problem
under the mat by tomorrow or you're
finished.
Jack exiting. Richard working phone console.
STROKE (V.O.)
...Or try us on the cell. Peace out.
Long, eternal beep.
RICHARD
Assholes, can you hear this? Paul Thomas
Anderson hates you, I hate you. You're
both gone, buh-bye. I used you for
Shriner. You two losers'll never work in
this town. EVER!
Richard punching button on phone console.
INT. BELINDA'S CUBICLE - INTERCUT - DAY
Belinda, punching button on phone.
RICHARD
Bella, come up here please, will ya?
BELINDA
What is it Dick?
RICHARD
In a bind sweetie. I need your help.
Belinda, propping feet on desk.
BELINDA
(filing nails)
Sorry to hear that Dick. I'm right in the
middle of a conversation with, uhh, my
insurance company. Yeah, coverage...
RICHARD
...Bella, I'll cover you...
BELINDA
...Sorry, gotta jump!
Belinda punching phone console removing headset.
BELINDA (CONT'D)
Who's suckin' dick now, Dick?
EXT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
Stroke, The Cappy in doorway. THE STAIN, a permanent fixture.
THE CAPPY
One for three. Thank God for that
Belinda. Can't wait to meet `er. IAA's so
by the numbers, they rock.
STROKE
What about rent?
THE CAPPY
Non-factor. We're outta here.
The Cappy kicking Skecher boot through front door.
STROKE
What? Security deposit man.
THE CAPPY
Stroke, we're locked into this Paul
Thomas Anderson project. They'll
negotiate an apartment for us. IAA loves
us, PTA fuckin' loved us, we're gonna be
movie stars for Christ's sake.
INT. APARTMENT #5 - DAY
The Cappy ripping open drapes, cleaning.
Stroke diving onto mattress staring longingly at De Niro
shrine, FAILING to imitate THE DE NIRO FACE.
STROKE
You know, I'm buyin' what you're sellin'.
You think he liked us that much?
THE CAPPY
Why wouldn't he? We got crazy acting
skills, you know that, he saw it, he
loved us. No brainer. Check the machine,
I guarantee the good news.
Stroke flipping over, sinking head into clothes pile.
STROKE
Later. I'm saving my strength for
tonight's festivities.
The Cappy hits REWIND on answering machine.
THE CAPPY
Dial the boys. Beers here till whenever,
then we paint the town red.
The machine PLAYS.
GAY TIMMY (V.O.)
Hey, don't forget your friends when
you're famous. See ya at...
FAST FORWARD.
MALE (V.O.)
This is Mr. Jackson with Chase Manhattan
bank...
FAST FORWARD, again.
STROKE
Exactly, can't disappoint the ladies. And
we gotta reward ourselves for a day well
done.
WOMAN (V.O.)
Arthur it's your Mother, you haven't
called me back in a week...Are you...
The Cappy SLAMMING FAST FORWARD looking: Stroke didn't hear.
The Cappy unleashing Mr. Bickle, running him in circles.
Another message PLAYS.
RICHARD (V.O.)
Assholes, can you hear this? Paul Thomas
Anderson hates you, I hate you. You're
both gone, buh-bye. I used you for
Shriner. You two losers'll never work in
this town. EVER!
The Cappy, Stroke: SHUT-UP, SILENT.
THE CAPPY
(long beat)
Ouch.
STROKE
Maybe he's right. We haven't had a
speaking part since we got here.
THE CAPPY
I'm not going home Stroke.
STROKE
Why are we even here?
THE CAPPY
(longer beat)
Exactly. We're Damonaffleck. PTA,
Richard, they can't spot talent. We got a
great script, we're good lookin', so we
deserve the right to be big time movie
stars...
STROKE
...Yeah, but we need De Niro.
THE CAPPY
Two of us together pitchin' `em tonight,
there's no way he'll say no.
STROKE
You're right, we got everything but
Bobby. We're so close.
THE CAPPY
There's the Stroke I know.
EXT. HOLLYWOOD STREETS - NIGHT
Gay Timmy, The Sock, in all black, porting twelve packs.
INT. APARTMENT #5 - NIGHT
Stroke, The Cappy, in black, shooting darts. Stroke tearing
RICHARD'S REPORTER picture, tacking it onto dart board.
STROKE
Right between his beady fuckin' eyes.
THE CAPPY
Sounds good, outta the way.
The alarm clock on window sill, 2:50a.m..
Gay Timmy, The Sock snorting lines off DE NIRO'S VARIETY.
THE CAPPY (CONT'D)
Hey, after you jackals line one up for
us, we're outta here.
GAY TIMMY
Cappy, The Sock and I have speaking parts
in your movie, right?
The Cappy, BULLS EYE, crossing to Gay Timmy.
THE CAPPY
(sniffing a line)
Ofcourse. That's the good stuff.
THE SOCK
(sniffing a line)
Hey, let's make a pact since we're all
here. When we're all famous, we won't
change right? We'll all still be friends,
and still hang out.
GAY TIMMY
(sniffing a line)
Yeah, no star bullshit.
STROKE
(De Niro)
You talkin' to me?
THE CAPPY
Almost there Stroke. Keep at it.
Four noses attacking LINES in unison. Rising together, wiping
away powder residue.
STROKE
Cap, Bobby'll be there tonight?
THE CAPPY
Absolutely. This is our night boys.
Tonight; nobodies, tomorrow; famous. Grab
T-Driver II, we ride.
EXT. THE RAT TRAP - 3 A.M.
The NIGHTCLUB'S facade: RUN-DOWN HOME.
The Cappy, Stroke, Gay Timmy, headed toward FAT DEZ: 300+
pound black BOUNCER inhaling pizza slices.
The Sock, fifty yards behind peeing against building.
BACK TO THE GROUP --
The Cappy slapping Fat Dez high five.
THE CAPPY
Fat Dez, how's the pie?
Fat Dez shooting a hard look.
FAT DEZ
(ebonics)
Listen suckas, Rat's trippin' cuz you
sucka mutha fuckas didn't buy any his
shit last night. Cough up sum fuckin'
ends, or you don't get ins.
Stroke reaching into waistband. Fat Dez dropping pizza, ready
to fight. Stroke drawing Taxi Driver II, shoving it in Fat
Dez's face, then passing it to The Cappy.
STROKE
(poking)
Cut the South Central, put a cap in your
ass, Dr. Dre shit Fatty D. Save it for
the dumb fuckers off the bus. We're no
Coppolla's.
THE CAPPY
We're makin' our own destiny.
STROKE
Yeah, we're Damonaffleck. Move it fatty!
The Cappy picks up pizza handing it to Fat Dez.
THE CAPPY
Three second rule, it's all good fatty.
Gay Timmy shoving Fat Dez aside, the boys enter.
FAT DEZ
Punk ass mutha fuckas.
INT. THE RAT TRAP - NIGHT
The NIGHTCLUB'S inside: STUDIO 54's v.i.p. lounge.
Dark, crowded. Celebrity types doing coke in every corner.
On the walls: headshots, autographed: Thanks Rat or Rat.
ENTRY WAY --
The four guys in a huddle.
THE CAPPY
Gay Tim, Sock, you guys man the front
door, make sure Bobby doesn't get by.
Stroke and I'll go main room: tag team.
We got our work cut out for us. Break!
Breaking into pairs: Gay Timmy, The Sock: inside FRONT DOOR;
The Cappy, Stroke: MAIN ROOM.
MAIN ROOM --
The Cappy, BELINDA locking eyes. Cinderella STRIKING POSE.
Stroke staring into the:
BACK ROOM --
Two BLACK MODELS bookending BOBBY D playing PAC MAN.
MAIN ROOM --
The Cappy, Stroke tapping each other's shoulders
simultaneously, neither paying attention to the other.
THE CAPPY
Stroke...Stroke, this girl loves me.
STROKE
Bobby D...Bobby D...!
The two boys break off into separate directions.
THE CORNER --
The Cappy sauntering. Offering hand.
THE CAPPY
I'm The Cappy. Charmed, I'm sure. Alone?
BELINDA
No, actually I'm with a client.
THE CAPPY
Ahh, a M.A.W. are you?
BELINDA
A what?
THE CAPPY
You know, Model, Actress, Whatever.
BELINDA
Not that kinda client. I'm an agent at
IAA. That's actually pretty funny though.
You know, you're much better looking than
your headshot.
THE CAPPY
Headshot?
BELINDA
Yeah, saw one in Richard's trash.
THE CAPPY
Ouch. That hurts.
BELINDA
Yeah, I know. Don't worry though, you
won't be seeing much of Richard anymore.
Pleasure to meet you finally, I'm
Belinda.
EXT. THE RAT TRAP - NIGHT
HUMMER skidding to halt. Richard: ruffled suit, silver flask,
stumbling DRUNK colliding into Fat Dez.
RICHARD
Desmond. The Cappy, Stroke?
FAT DEZ
Punk ass mutha fuckas.
RICHARD
Exactly.
(flashes gun)
Bastards got me canned. They here?
INSIDE FRONT DOOR --
Gay Timmy, The Sock: halting BUSINESS. Perking an ear.
BACK ROOM --
Stroke behind Bobby D playing Pac Man. Clearing throat,
Stroke speaks, mustering only faint whisper.
EXT. THE RAT TRAP - NIGHT
Fat Dez noticing gun. Richard slapping WADDED hundreds.
FAT DEZ
Like alwayz, looking for Bobby D.
Richard storming into club.
INSIDE FRONT DOOR --
Gay Timmy drawing gun. Low, out of sight. Pursuing Richard.
BACK ROOM --
Stroke wiping palms, two deep breaths, clearing throat.
DE NIRO starting to turn around.
Stroke giving SPOT ON impersonation: THE DE NIRO FACE.
STROKE
YOU TALKIN' TO ME?
MAIN ROOM --
Richard trailed by Gay Timmy, The Sock, moving with purpose.
BACK ROOM --
CLOSE UP -- STROKE'S FACE - HE HAS SEEN GOD.
STROKE
(dropped jaw)
Oh my God...
BOBBY D (O.S.)
(belly laugh)
Pretty good kid. Check it out girls,
kid's got me down pretty good, uhh?
THE CORNER --
The Cappy, back turned, chatting to Belinda.
THE CAPPY
Appreciate the wake-up call this morning.
BELINDA
Welcome. Did you really write that
script?
THE CAPPY
Taxi Driver II? You read it? Stroke and
I've been working on that ever since we
came to L.A....
The Cappy watching Belinda's melting face as:
Richard approaching: Gay Timmy, The Sock behind.
BELINDA
...Oh shit it's Richard.
The Cappy spinning.
RICHARD
Bella, is that you? It is. And fuckin'
bottom feeding again. Don't you ever
listen? Who is this guy? He's a fuckin'
loser. Cut throat!
Enter Kin Shriner.
KIN SHRINER
Bella, I love this place. Where'd you
hear about it?
Richard: STUNNED, SILENT.
BELINDA
Ohh, how rude of me, you two haven't met
yet. Dick, meet my new client Kin
Shriner. Kin Shriner, Dick.
(whisper)
CUT THROAT.
Richard yanking out gun.
RICHARD
That's fuckin' it. You're all gonna pay!
All of you!
Richard aiming at Belinda, then The Cappy, then Kin.
Gay Timmy, behind, raising gun, sighting RICHARD'S HEAD.
BACK ROOM --
Stroke gesticulating.
STROKE
...Don't get me wrong, you were great in
Taxi Driver, but this is Taxi Driver II!
And Bickle's back...
BOBBY D
...Sure, sure, sounds good kid...
Screaming patrons interrupt.
THE CORNER --
Richard waving gun: The Cappy, Belinda, Shriner cowering.
UNSEEN TO RICHARD: Gay Timmy's gun at his head.
Stroke, Bobby D arriving.
STROKE
Cap, Cappy, check this out.
BELINDA
Robert De Niro?
THE CAPPY
Holy Shit, it is Bobby D.
STROKE
Pretty good huh?
RICHARD
(raising gun)
AM I FUCKING HERE? I GOTTA GUN!
GAY TIMMY
Put down the gun buddy. It's over.
Richard putting gun down. Gay Timmy kicking it aside.
RICHARD
Hey, come on, just kidding. Can I get
that back. I promise I won't shoot
anybody.
EXT. THE RAT TRAP - NIGHT
FRONT DOOR --
PATRON running out screaming.
PATRON
GUNS! They got guns!
Fat Dez drawing AK-47, lumbering inside.
THE CORNER --
The Cappy, Belinda surrounding Richard.
BELINDA
Richard, you're such a puss!
THE CAPPY
Yeah pussy!
The Cappy, Belinda high fiving.
EVERBODY SPINNING TOWARD FRONT DOOR. EYES WIDENED.
Fat Dez charging, wielding AK-47.
EVERYBODY
No! Stop! Wait! Don't! It's over!
THE CAPPY
NO!
Fat Dez stumbling to halt, PANTING.
FAT DEZ
Punk ass mutha fuckas.
Everybody EXHALING RELIEF.
GAY TIMMY
All these guns. Whew! Lucky nobody got
shot.
EXT. RAT TRAP - NIGHT
All calm...
SEMI-AUTOMATIC GUN FIRE RINGING LIKE SCHOOL BELLS.
INT. THE RAT TRAP - NIGHT
The Cappy, Stroke, DEAD, bullet ridden, spurting blood.
PULL BACK TO REVEAL
Smoking AK-47. Bobby D MANIACAL.
BOBBY D
That's the good stuff.
INT. FOTOKEM - ONE YEAR LATER
The Cappy, Stroke's bullet ridden bodies on SCREEN.
Belinda, bookended by The Cappy, Stroke, watching DAILIES.
Paul Thomas Anderson, Kin Shriner, Gay Timmy chatting.
Everyone wearing TAXI DRIVER II crew caps.
Healthy Mr. Bickle on The Sock's lap eating Flintstone's.
A group of Armani suits filing into room.
THE CAPPY
(turning around)
You know what Paul, a little more blood
in that last scene wouldn't hurt.
KIN SHRINER
Ssshh! My scenes comin' up.
STROKE
And the picture looked a little blue.
PAUL THOMAS ANDERSON
Whatever guys. We'll fix it in post.
BELINDA
Yeah, post.
THE CAPPY
(to Belinda)
We get Taft Tartley'd, right?
FADE TO BLACK:
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