In the End (Available) Contact Maggie

(All scripts are registered) Format maybe off because of web translation.

Excerpt #1

KITCHEN Potted herbs. Earthenware. Dried and fresh flowers everywhere. Little green ceramic frogs stare wide- eyed from a window sill.

Exhausted, Jason throws himself onto a
kitchen chair.

Polly pours two glasses of iced tea -- throws
in mint sprigs, hands a glass to Jason, then plops down
beside him at the table.

            Aw, Pols... God I hate green tea.

            Lets see, it deactivates the
            influenza virus, a stronger anti-
            oxidant than vitamin E and C, helps
            prevent food poisoning, and it's
            good for the... prostate.

She grins and nods her head.

            Okay. I give. I give. He takes a
            swig -- makes a god-awful face.


He shakes his head as if trying to fling the taste from his mouth.

Polly grins. Takes a delightful sip of her own.


            Fuck you.

They laugh, then lean  over in unison and share a kiss.

            Oh, almost forgot. Letter.

He pulls a folded, sawdust covered, envelope
from his rear pocket and hands it to her. She carefully smooths it out... checks out the return address.

            Oh god, ... It's from CWA.

She starts to open it, then...

            You read it.

She thrusts it toward him. He reaches out. She snatches
it back. He smiles -- shakes his head. Her hands fumble
nervously to open it.

            So... is CWA supposed to mean

Polly clutches the letter to her breast, begins

            Om mani padme hum. Om mani padme

Jason chuckles, shakes his head.

            Gotta be another literary agency.

Polly squeezes her eyes shut.


She opens her eyes and turns to him.

            Colossal Writers Agency, only the
            biggest -- the best.

She pulls out the letter. Reads. The joy drains
from her face. She stands, drops the letter onto the
table, and exits without a word.


Jason enters -- leans against the doorjamb.
Polly stares out the window.

            They won't read the script.

She turns and shakes her head with a pathetically stoic smile.


Polly lays bareback atop a magnificent Appaloosa, arms
clasped around his neck, her head resting on his withers. Her eyes are closed.

                         JASON (O.S.)
            Hey babe...

A few yards away Jason sits in cut-offs, bareback upon a Palomino.

Polly lifts her head -- sits up. Jason maneuvers his horse close to her.
            They would have phoned you, baby,
            you know that. Maybe... maybe it's
            time to give it up-- you know, move
            on. For chrissake, Pols, six years
            is a long time trying to break in.
            Besides, you live three thousand
            miles away. Hollywood doesn't need

Polly's eyes narrow. Her face hardens.

            You haven't even read my scripts,
            so how the hell would you know if
            they need me or not?

            I -- I didn't mean it like that.
            You know what I meant.

            You're one of the most sensitive,
            compassionate, people I know.

The App raises his head. He knows. Polly reins him around and takes off, breaking into a full run.

Polly and the App cover the ground like a bullet -- his mane and her hair flying.

Excerpt #2


Madison paces the office with screenplay in hand. A knock.

Milton peeks in. Madison rushes him.

            Milt... Oh, God Milt... did you
            know? Is that why you sent me the
            script? Cruel joke Milton. Very
            cruel joke.

She stalks him toward the couch, claws push on his shoulders to sit.

            Maddy, what are you whining about?

She hovers over him.
            The script. The script you sent me
            as a doggy bag. You knew! I know
            you did. Fess up, Milton.

            Milton? Uh-oh. Knew what, Maddy?

            He's a she for chrissake!

            There's a lot of that going around.

            I'm not joking, Milton! Charles
            Vanguard is really... Polly. Who
            the hell names their kid
            Polly? And do you know where Polly
            the woman lives? In Virginia of all
            places -- in the foothills!

            Oh my, the foothills. And, no, I
            didn't know.

Madison paces.

            I can't possibly rep a woman,
            especially one who writes action.
            They're simply... persona-non-
            grata, Milt.

She moves to the bookcase of scripts, grabs a lone screenplay placed apart from the others... waves it under Milton's nose.

            Alisha Cunningham's script. Do you
            know what Halprin Conrad said to me
            when he read it? He loved it, loved
            the story, loved the action -- but
            he passed. Know why? He said,
            "Madison, women can't write action,
            everyone knows that." I mean, does
            that make any sense!? What am I
            going to do, Milt? I had a momentary
            lapse of consciousness... I can't
            rep her. What the hell was I

            Breathe Maddy.

Madison sucks air.


Whooping and hollering, Polly climbs a ladder to the rooftop.

The crew gapes down at her, as Jason moves to the edge of the roof.

            Jason! Jason! You won't believe--


Illyanna and Madison. Iced Tea. Sandwiches.

            --what I did today.

            Dumped Harley and bought a dog.

Madison throws her head back.

            Oh, God, were it that simple.

            Uh-oh. Tell.

            I signed a woo-- wooo-man.

                   (feigned shock)

            Who lives in Virginia.

            No. They're worse places... like

            She was supposed to be a man... she
            writes like one for godssake, and
            her name was Charles...

            Charley is a cute name for a woman.

            You're not helping, Illyanna.
            You're supposed to be helping,
            comforting. I've lost it. I'm going
            insane. Harley's making me insane!

            Charley must be good, hmmm?

            Polly. And she's very good.

            I like Charley better. Don't you
            like Charley better?

            Charley Smith?

            Her last name is Smith? No one
            actually has the last name Smith..
            do they? Listen to you, Maddy!
            You're such a snob!

            I am not a snob. I am a realist.
            Woman. Over thirty woman. Out-of-
            town woman.

Illyanna laughs... then laughs harder. She leans in --
stares at Madison. The truth.

            Sounds like someone I used to know.


                         MADISON (O.S.)
            Harley... Harley! Just.. just think
            about this. Think, Harley.


Harley's sprawled on the couch, a screenplay lying on his stomach.

            I think I want more money.

Madison's trying to keep her cool. She pulls up a chair to the couch -- looks like his shrink.

            Robert Shannon is... is... well,
            he's a tolerant man, up to a point
            of course.
                   (voice rising)
            He's reached that point, Harley.
            He's a jerk, and he's been fucking
            me around since I took the
            assignment. Hey, he thinks he can
            do better? Let him write it.

            Harley, listen to me. He can pull
            you so fast you'll--

            That would be a big mistake and he
            knows it.

Madison's pissed beyond diplomacy.

            How can I put this delicately? You
            fucked up, Harley. Got it? Fucked
            up. They can and will bring in
            another writer if you don't--

Harley leaps off the couch.

            What? Kiss ass? Turn brilliance
            into crap? They won't fire me. But
            I can fire you, Madison.

            Harley, Harley... I'll talk to


Madison sits demurely on the sofa, Robert and Chase sit in chairs opposite her.

            You know his problem, don't you?


            Oh come on, Madison...

            Actually, Robert and I are part of
            the problem.

            Problem. There's a problem?

Robert stands -- looks down at both.

            Harley came up too fast -- too
            strong. Everyone tracked him like a
            bitch in heat, including us. Now he
            figures he can do no wrong. He
            doesn't care if his material is
            shit, he knows every prod in town
            will hump for it.
                   (beat; incredulous)
            Why the hell do we do that? I don't
            even like him. Egotistical

            What about you, Maddy? Like him?

Her eyes flit from Chase to Robert and back again. She takes a deep breath, then in a rush...

            He's an asshole but he is my
            client, and--

            It's over, Maddy.

She opens her mouth to speak.

            No, Madison.


Stuck in traffic. The convertible top is down for all to hear. Madison's on the cell phone.

            Harley.. just... wait... Harley,
            no... I -- you -- would you..
            ..listen to me god damn it!?

She turns to a neighbor car -- smiles apologetically.

            I tried Harley, I got down on my
            knees and begged; my knees Harley.


A shrine to Harley. He's leaned back in front of the
computer, writing as he talks.

            Know what Madison? I should've gone
            with JT at Colossal. He's got
            balls -- you've only got tits and
            they're sagging. You're fired.

He drops the phone into the cradle.


Madison holds the phone away -- looks at it. Incredulous.

She drinks air, shakes her head. Eyes squint, mouth puckers.

Traffic starts moving -- but not fast enough. She lays on the horn, then punches the cell phone.

            Grace.. it's me. Patch me through
            to... what's-her-name... Polly

Excerpt #3


Polly sits frozen. Madison motions with her claws to keep going. Polly's eyes flit from Robert to Chase, and back to Madison.

            Well, then I was thinking... the
            girl, she could be... well... and...
            and.. the boyfriend... he -- This
            isn't working.

She stands abruptly.

                   (to Robert)
            I can't do this. I don't know how
            to do this. I don't have any more
            ideas. Well, I do but I just can't
            think of them, and I've already
            written lots of scripts. A pile...
            they were going to the dump but
            Jason met me down the road, and he
            had the garbage bag in his---

Again her eyes flit. Madison is wide- eyed, her claws
gripping the chair. White knuckled -- about to hyperventilate.

Robert and Chase exchange glances. Robert folds his hands -- leans his nose into the crook of his thumbs.

Chase is uncomfortable. He smiles, but it comes off as condescending.

            I-- I--

Madison stares her down.

            Sit down.

Polly quickly obeys. Robert stands -- goes around the far side of his desk and opens a drawer.

                   (to Madison)
            He's got a gun in there. He's going
            to shoot me.