American Psycho Page #11

McDermott and Van Patten look at each other and then back

at Bateman. Bateman starts to laugh, and the other two uneasily

join In.

Luis Carruthers walks up to the table.

CARRUTHERS:

(Shyly)

Hi, guys. I wanna get your opinion on something.

McDermott rolls his eyes at the rest of the table.

McDERMOTT If it's about the bow-tie you're wearing, you

know how we feel about it. Luis laughs good-naturedly.

CARRUTHERS:

Yes, I do. No, it's my business card-I decided to

get a new one too.

He pulls out something incredibly tasteful. Everyone

compliments Luis except Bateman. The SOUND DROPS and all we hear

is the beating of his heart as he stares at the card enviously.

Luis plucks it from his hand and walks away, pleased with

himself.

VAN PATTEN:

Listen, what about dinner?

BATEMAN:

(Suddenly angry)

Is that all you ever have to contribute, Van Patten? "What about

f***ing dinner?"

McDERMOTT

Ah, cheer up, Bateman.

(Slaps him on the back, massages his neck)

What's the matter? No shiatsu this morning?

BATEMAN:

(Watching Luis going into the men's room)

Keep touching me like that and you'll draw back a stump.

McDERMOTT

Whoa, hold on there, little buddy.

BATEMAN:

Excuse me.

He gets up from the table. As Bateman walks away, Van

Patten grabs a waiter.

VAN PATTEN:

Is this tap water? I don't drink tap water Bring

me an Evian or something, okay?

INT. MEN'S ROOM - DAY

Bateman pulls on his gloves as he

enters the men's room. Carruthers is standing in a stall with his

back to Bateman. The sound of his urinating is heard until Bateman

approaches, then abruptly stops. Slowly, Bateman brings his hands

up over the collar of Carruthers' cashmere jacket, circling his

neck until both thumbs and index fingers meet. All we can hear

is the sound of Bateman's heavy breathing. Slowly he starts to

squeeze. Almost in slow motion, Carruthers turns around.

Carruthers looks down at Bateman's wrists as if lost in

thought. Then he lowers his head and kisses Bateman's

wrist. He looks back at Bateman with a shy, love-struck

expression, then reaches up and tenderly touches the side

of his face.

CARRUTHERS:

God, Patrick. Why here?

He strokes Bateman's hair.

CARRUTHERS:

I've seen you looking at me. I've noticed your hot body.

Carruthers tries to kiss him on the lips but Bateman backs

away. He drops his hands from Carruthers' neck. Carruthers

immediately takes them and places them back. Bateman drops

them again.

CARRUTHERS:

Don't be shy.

Bateman takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and tries to lift

his hands again, but abandons the attempt.

CARRUTHERS:

You don't know how long I've wanted it. Ever since that Christmas

party at Arizona 206. You know the one, you were wearing that

red-striped paisley Armani tie.

Bateman looks down and sees that Carruthers' pants are

still unzipped. He moves past him out of the stall and

stands by the sink and pretends to wash his hands until he

realizes he still has his gloves on. Carruthers comes up

behind him.

CARRUTHERS:

I want you. I want you...too.

Bateman storms out of the men's room, bumping into a waiter

and several customers and cursing. Noticing the maitre d'

and another waiter conferring and looking at him strangely,

Bateman straightens up and smiles and waves cheerfully at

them. Carruthers walks up behind him.

BATEMAN:

(Hissing)

What...is...it?

CARRUTHERS:

Where are you going?

BATEMAN:

(Stumbling away from him)

I've gotta...I've

gotta...return some videotapes.

CARRUTHERS:

Patrick?

BATEMAN:

What?

CARRUTHERS:

(Silently mouthing the words)

I'll call you.

Bateman storms out of the restaurant.

INT. COURTNEY'S APARTMENT - NIGHT

Bateman is lying on top of Courtney in her bed, after sex.

Still panting, he rolls off her, onto his back. He feels

something lumpy underneath him and pulls out a stuffed toy,

a black cat with blue jewel eyes. There is silence.

COURTNEY:

Will you call me before Thanksgiving?

BATEMAN:

Maybe.

Courtney sighs and reaches for a bottle of pills on her

nightstand, swallowing several. Bateman gets up and begins

to dress, admiring himself in the mirror. Courtney watches

the TV at low volume.

COURTNEY:

What are you doing tonight?

BATEMAN:

Dinner at the River Cafe. Au Bar afterwards, maybe.

COURTNEY:

That's nice.

BATEMAN:

You and...Luis?

COURTNEY:

(Lighting a cigarette)

We were supposed to have dinner at Tad and

Maura's, but-you know how Luis is...

BATEMAN:

I never knew you smoked.

COURTNEY:

(Smiling sadly)

You never noticed.

Bateman is making final adjustments to his tie.

COURTNEY:

Listen...Patrick. Can we talk?

BATEMAN:

You look marvelous. There's nothing to say. You're

going to marry Luis. Next week, no Less.

COURTNEY:

(Sarcastically)

Isn't that special?

(A pause)

Patrick?

BATEMAN:

Yes, Courtney?

C0URTNEY

If I don't see you before Thanksgiving, have a nice one, okay?

BATEMAN:

(Flatly)

You too.

Courtney picks up the black cat and starts petting its

head. Bateman heads down the hallway to the front door.

COURTNEY:

Patrick?

BATEMAN:

Yes?

COURTNEY:

Nothing.

INT. NIGHTCLUB - NIGHT

A big eighties nightclub with a mixed crowd: hip-hop

kids, visitors from Jersey, downtown art people, yuppies.

I Bateman makes his way through the crowd to the bar, and

tries to attract the bartender's attention. He is wearing a

suit and his tie is loosened. Kimball approaches him.

KIMBALL:

Mr. Bateman?

Bateman gasps and recovers.

BATEMAN:

Detective Kendall...uh Campbell?

KIMBALL:

Kimball.

(Extending his hand)

Call me Don.

BATEMAN:

Don.

KIMBALL:

So...you hang out here a lot?

BATEMAN:

Uh, yes...I mean...whenever necessary. You

know.

Pause.

BATEMAN:

How's the investigation going? Taken anyone

in for "formal questioning?" (He makes quotation marks

in the air and laughs a not-so-relaxed laugh)

KIMBALL:

0h no. Informal conversations, mostly. What's that, Stoli?

BATEMAN:

Yeah. No Finlandia, as usual. F***ing dump.

KIMBALL:

(Looking at his glass)

Too true. You know, Bateman-people tend to reveal so much

more about themselves when they're in a relaxed setting,

don't you think?

Bateman is nodding nervously, idiotically.

KIMBALL:

Some people just can t help themselves. Another Stoli?

Bateman shakes his head.

KIMBALL:

I mean they want to get caught.

BATEMAN:

Dan, great to see you again. Like I said, you need

anything at all, I'm your man. I don't envy your job. I mean

Owen was a...complex man.

Bateman wanders away.

He looks back uneasily at KIMBALL, who is watching him from

the bar. A GUY WITH DREADLOCKS walks by.

BATEMAN:

(Holding up his hand to high-five) Rasta Man!

The man stares at him.

BATEMAN:

I mean-Mon. We be jammin'...

The man walks by, shaking his head.

Bateman wanders into the next room, which is filled with a

more familiar crowd: young men in designer suits, girls in

black designer dresses. Across the room he spots McDermott

and Price sitting with three models, all wearing black

mini-dresses. Price and McDermott are having a whispered

argument.

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