A Night at the Roxbury Page #15

Doug doesn't respond.

STEVE:

(singing quietly)

... 'This is it.'

DOUG:

(cutting him off)

Steve! This is the worst day of

my life. So, if you don't mind, I

really don't want to hear you talk

right now.

STEVE:

Well, it hasn't been the Super Bowl

for me either...

(mumbling)

... just trying to get you to talk.

DOUG:

(blowing up)

Talk?! You want me to talk, Steve?!

I'll talk. Blah-blah-blah, talk,

talk, talk! I'm talking! You feel

better now?! Talk!

STEVE:

I don't really know how to respond to

that.

DOUG:

(ripping into him)

Oh, big surprise, Steve. You don't

know how to do something. You don't

know how to work the clubs, you don't

know how to talk to women. The only

thing you know how to do is ask me

how to do everything!

STEVE:

But, I --

DOUG:

That's why everthing's gone

wrong... 'cause you're holding me

back.

DOUG (CONT'D)

You're so needy all the time.

You're like this thing tied to my

leg, like this... dragging

thing...

STEVE:

A lead weight?

DOUG:

Yes, a lead weight.

(sincere)

Thanks.

(back to angry)

And I am not letting you drag me

down anymore.

STEVE:

... You know, can't blame me for

what happened. Today was a series

of random events gone awry.

DOUG:

Maybe events wouldn't go awry if I

had someone with a brain sitting

next to me.

STEVE:

Oh, yeah. Well, maybe I'd have

better events if I was with

someone with a higher level of

looks and taller.

Doug, in shock, starts to hyperventilate from anger.

DOUG:

(breathing heavily)

I'm tall enough to kick your ass.

STEVE:

(cupping his ear)

Did you say something? It's hard

to hear things that low down to

the ground.

DOUG:

Well hear this. Consider me your

ex-brother.

STEVE:

I don't care.

DOUG:

You care about this?

Doug fakes throwing a punch -- Steve flinches. Steve

fake punches -- Doug flinches.

DOUG:

You want the real thing?!

STEVE:

No.

DOUG:

Then stop talking to me.

STEVE:

My pleasure.

They continue along in silence, both looking miserable.

CUT TO:

EXT. BUTABI HOUSE - NEXT MORNING

We see the Silk van parked in front of the house.

CUT TO:

INT. DOUG AND STEVE'S ROOM - CONTINUOUS ACTION

Steve lies on his bed looking out the window. Doug's

bed is empty.

STEVE'S POV

We see Doug carrying all his clothes into the Butabi

guest cottage.

STEVE:

is sad. Gets up, walks to Doug's desk and throws all the

Post-its and business supplies in the trash.

CUT TO:

INT. BUTABI GUEST COTTAGE - CONTINOUS ACTION

A simple studio. Doug dumps his belongings on the bed --

bottles of hair gel, colognes, aftershaves, etc. He

picks up Cambi's framed number, yanks it out of the frame

and rips it to shreds. Then he sits back on the bed,

picks up remote and turns the TELEVISION ON.

TELEVISION SCREEN

Oddly enough, it's a rerun of "21 Jump Street" featuring

Richard Greico.

BACK TO SCENE:

DOUG:

Lies! All lies!

Doug shuts it OFF.

CUT TO:

INT. SILK PLANT STORE - DAY

A depressed Steve is emotionally selling a plant to a

female customer.

STEVE:

(sadly)

That's right, ma'am. It's silk.

It'll always be in bloom. It'll

never change. It'll never die.

It'll never yell at you and call

you a 'loser.' It'll always be in

your room where you left it, not

suddenly move out into the guest

house.

The customer is crying. Mr. Butabi walks over, pulls

Steve aside.

MR. BUTABI

What are you doing? All the

customers are depressed.

STEVE:

(looking over at

empty register)

I'm just used to seeing Doug at

the register. I miss him.

MR. BUTABI

But he's only in the guest house.

It's ten feet away. It's like a

mansion in there.

STEVE:

There's no cable.

MR. BUTABI

There is Cinemax.

STEVE:

(crying)

But, there's no H.B.O.

Steve walks off, upset.

CUT TO:

INT. CRUNCH GYM - DAY

Emily, in skin-tight shiny body suit, is exercising on

the Peck Deck portion of a Nautilus machine -- filled

with people. She finishes her last repetitions.

EMILY:

Nine... ten.

She stops. Then looks in a little workout book entitled

Diet to Get Steve.

EMILY:

Okay. One more set. Add ten

pounds.

She bends down and pulls the metal pin out of the

weights. The person next to her, using the lat bar, goes

flying up.

EMILY:

Whoops. Sorry. Wrong pin.

EMILY'S POV

Steve is doing sit-ups on a slant board. Craig spots

him.

CRAIG AND STEVE:

Steve is straining, in mid-crunch. Craig is eating a

Power Bar.

CRAIG:

Not the neck -- the stomach. Not

the thighs -- the stomach. Not

the shoulders - the... Oh my God!

STEVE:

What?

CRAIG:

Ab citing! Six pack in full

effect.

STEVE:

Where!

Steve rushes to mirror, holds up his shirt. Craig

points.

CRAIG:

There she cuts.

Emily enters.

EMILY:

Hi, Steve. Is that an ab?

CRAIG:

(noticing Emily's

body)

Toned and tight, Emily. Want to

power up?

He offers her a bite of his bar. She ignores him. Craig

stands there chewing a Power Bar and drinking an "Ultra

Fuel" while they talk.

EMILY:

I heard about your brother.

STEVE:

(avoiding eye contact)

What'd you hear about him?

EMILY:

Your father said you and him quit,

then you had a fight, then you

came crawling back to work like he

said you would and how your

brother didn't.

STEVE:

So?

EMILY:

So, when are we going out?

CRAIG:

I know a place with good spinach

wraps?

STEVE:

Look, Emily, I know you've had

your heart set on this a long

time, but, the truth is we're from

two different worlds. I mean, I'm

a rebel... and you're kind of the

sweet girl next door type.

EMILY:

Steve, I work next door. It's not

a type, it's a location.

STEVE:

You know what I mean. I don't

know if you can handle a guy like

me. I'm used to more, like

experienced women.

EMILY:

Duh. You're forgetting -- I got to

college. Translation -- drunken

orgies with occasional Cliff

Notes.

CRAIG:

I know Cliff. Weak delts.

EMILY:

And I'm not one of those date rape

crybabies.

STEVE:

Look, it sounds good, but I'm

getting over a very serious

relationship right now. It's

gonna take some time to nurse

my emotional wounds. And that

could take, like, until Saturday.

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