American Beauty Page #9

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LESTER:

(as he lifts)

That's. What. You. Think.

INT. BRAD'S OFFICE - DAY

Brad is seated behind his desk, reading a document. Lester

sits across from him, smiling.

BRAD:

(reads)

"...my job consists of basically

masking my contempt for the a**holes

in charge, and, at least once a day,

retiring to the men's room so I can

jerk off, while I fantasize about a

life that doesn't so closely resemble

hell."

(looks up at Lester)

Well, you obviously have no interest

in saving yourself.

LESTER:

(laughs)

Brad, for fourteen years I've been a

whore for the advertising industry.

The only way I could save myself now

is if I start firebombing.

BRAD:

Whatever. Management wants you gone

by the end of the day.

LESTER:

Well, just what sort of severance

package is "management" prepared to

offer me? Considering the information

I have about our editorial director

buying p*ssy with company money.

A beat.

LESTER:

Which I'm sure would interest the

I.R.S., since it technically

constitutes fraud. And I'm sure that

some of our advertisers and rival

publications might like to know about

it as well. Not to mention, Craig's

wife.

Brad sighs.

BRAD:

What do you want?

LESTER:

One year's salary, with benefits.

BRAD:

That's not going to happen.

LESTER:

Well, what do you say I throw in a

little sexual harassment charge to

boot?

Brad LAUGHS.

BRAD:

Against who?

LESTER:

Against you.

Brad stops laughing.

LESTER:

Can you prove you didn't offer to

save my job if I'd let you blow me?

Brad leans back in his chair, studying Lester.

BRAD:

Man. You are one twisted f***.

LESTER:

(standing)

Nope. I'm just an ordinary guy with

nothing to lose.

INT. OFFICE BUILDING - MOMENTS LATER

Exhilarated, Lester walks down a corridor, his belongings in

a box on his shoulder. He's happier than he's been in years.

LESTER:

Yeah!

INT. RESTAURANT - LATER THAT DAY

Carolyn sits at a table, lost in thought. There are two menus

on the table. After a moment, Buddy Kane, the Real Estate

King, joins her.

Carolyn immediately becomes warm and gracious.

BUDDY:

Carolyn.

CAROLYN:

Buddy.

Carolyn smiles, genuinely touched that he remembers her name.

BUDDY:

I'm so sorry I kept you waiting.

Christy left for New York this

morning, and... let's just say things

were very hectic around the house.

CAROLYN:

What's she doing in New York?

BUDDY:

She's moving there.

(off Carolyn's look)

Yes. We are splitting up.

CAROLYN:

Buddy. I'm so sorry.

BUDDY:

(bitterly)

Yes, according to her, I'm too focused

on my career. As if being driven to

succeed is some sort of character

flaw. Well, she certainly knew how

to take advantage of the lifestyle

my success afforded her. Oh. Wow.

(then, laughing)

Ah, it's for the best.

CAROLYN:

When I saw you two at the party the

other night, you seemed perfectly

happy.

BUDDY:

Well, call me crazy, but it is my

philosophy that in order to be

successful, one must project an image

of success, at all times.

He smiles, then opens his menu. Carolyn picks hers up

mechanically, but continues to stare at him, enraptured,

like a fervent Christian who's just come face to face with

Jesus.

EXT. HIGH SCHOOL CAMPUS - LATER THAT DAY

Ricky stands with his DIGICAM, videotaping something on the

ground at his feet.

On VIDEO:
A DEAD BIRD lays on the ground, decomposing.

ANGELA (O.S.)

What are you doing?

On VIDEO:
The camera JERKS up to discover Jane and Angela

staring at us.

RICKY (O.S.)

I was filming this dead bird.

ANGELA:

Why?

RICKY (O.S.)

Because it's beautiful.

On VIDEO:
Angela looks at Jane, trying not to laugh.

ANGELA:

I think maybe you forgot your

medication today, mental boy.

On VIDEO:
She falls out of frame as we ZOOM toward Jane.

RICKY (O.S.)

Hi, Jane.

JANE:

(uncomfortable)

Look. I want you to stop filming me.

Ricky lowers the Digicam.

RICKY:

Okay.

He looks at her, curious, his eyes searching hers. She doesn't

look away.

ANGELA:

Well, whatever.

(to Jane)

This is boring. Let's go.

JANE:

(to Ricky)

Do you need a ride?

ANGELA:

(to Jane)

Are you crazy? I don't want to end

up hacked to pieces in a dumpster

somewhere.

RICKY:

It's okay. I'll walk. But thanks.

ANGELA:

Yeah, see? He doesn't want to go

anyway. C'mon, let's go.

Angela starts off, but Jane doesn't follow. Ricky smiles at

her. She almost smiles back, then:

JANE:

(calls off to Angela)

I think I'm going to walk, too.

Angela stops and stares at her.

ANGELA:

What? Jane, that's like, almost a

mile.

EXT. TOP HAT MOTEL - LATER THAT DAY

Carolyn's Mercedes is parked next to a JAGUAR CONVERTIBLE

with a VANITY LICENSE PLATE that reads "R E KING."

INT. TOP HAT MOTEL - CONTINUOUS

Carolyn and Buddy are in the middle of sex.

CAROLYN:

Yes! Oh, God! I love it!

BUDDY:

You like getting nailed by the king?

CAROLYN:

Oh yes! I love it! F*** me, your

majesty!

EXT. STREET - LATER THAT DAY

Lester's TOYOTA CAMRY cruises through the streets. We hear

Lester SINGING along to "AMERICAN WOMAN" on the STEREO.

INT. TOYOTA CAMRY - CONTINUOUS

Lester is driving, smoking a joint.

LESTER:

AMERICAN WOMAN, STAY AWAY FROM ME...

AMERICAN WOMAN, MAMA LET ME BE...

DON'T COME A HANGIN' AROUND MY DOOR...

I DON'T WANT TO SEE YOUR FACE NO

MORE...

EXT. MR. SMILEY'S - CONTINUOUS

Lester continues singing along to "AMERICAN WOMAN," as the

Camry pulls into the parking lot of a FAST FOOD RESTAURANT.

Lester pulls up to the drive-thru speaker box.

DRIVE-THRU GIRL (O.S.)

(over speaker box)

Smile you're at Mr. Smiley's.

Lester turns down the volume on the stereo.

LESTER:

What?

DRIVE-THRU GIRL (O.S.)

Would you like to try our new bacon

and egg fajita just a dollar twenty-

nine for a limited time only.

LESTER:

Uh... no. But thank you.

(reading menu)

I'll have a Big Barn Burger, Smiley

fries, and an orange soda.

DRIVE-THRU GIRL (O.S.)

Please drive up to the window, thank

you.

He pulls the car around to the WINDOW, where a teenage GIRL

wearing a headset is waiting.

DRIVE-THRU GIRL

Smile, you're at Mr. Smiley's, that'll

be four eighty-nine, please.

Lester pays her. As she hands him his food, he notices a

SIGN in the corner of the window that reads:

NOW TAKING APPLICATIONS

COUNTER GIRL:

Would you like some Smiley Sauce?

LESTER:

No. No, actually... I'd like to fill

out an application.

She stares at him, confused by his age and attire.

COUNTER GIRL:

There's not jobs for manager, it's

just for counter.

LESTER:

Good. I'm looking for the least

possible amount of responsibility.

INT. MR. SMILEY'S - A SHORT TIME LATER

Lester sits at a booth with the MANAGER, a greasy kid wearing

a white short sleeve shirt and a tie covered with the Mr.

Smiley's logo. He looks over Lester's application, baffled.

MANAGER:

I don't think you'd fit in here.

LESTER:

I have fast food experience.

MANAGER:

Yeah, like twenty years ago.

LESTER:

Well, I'm sure there have been amazing

technological advances in the

industry, but surely you have some

sort of training process. It seems

unfair to presume I won't be able to

learn.

The Manager sighs and runs a hand through his greasy hair,

wondering what he could possibly have done to deserve this.

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