In the End (Available) Contact Maggie
(All scripts are registered) Format maybe off because of web translation.
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
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.
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.
EXT. PASTURE - LATER - DAY
Polly lays bareback atop a magnificent Appaloosa, arms
clasped around his neck, her head resting on his withers. Her eyes are closed.
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.
INT. MADISON'S OFFICE - DAY
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
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
I can't possibly rep a woman,
especially one who writes action.
They're simply... persona-non-
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
Madison sucks air.
EXT. FRAMED OUT HOUSE - DAY
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--
EXT. SIDEWALK CAFE - LOS ANGELES - DAY
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.
I signed a woo-- wooo-man.
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?
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-
Illyanna laughs... then laughs harder. She leans in --
stares at Madison. The truth.
Sounds like someone I used to know.
EXT. MADISON'S OFFICE - DAY
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
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
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
INT. SHANNON'S OFFICE -DAY
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
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.
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
It's over, Maddy.
She opens her mouth to speak.
INT. MADISON'S CAR - LATER - DAY
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.
INT. HARLEY'S DEN - SAME
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.
INT. MADISON'S CAR - DAY
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
INT. ROBERT SHANNON'S OFFICE - DAY
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
She stands abruptly.
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.
Madison stares her down.
Polly quickly obeys. Robert stands -- goes around the far side of his desk and opens a drawer.
He's got a gun in there. He's going
to shoot me.