American Psycho Page #12

PRICE:

I have to talk to these girls? They're models.

McDERMOTT

Someone has to get the Bolivian marching powder.

You went last time. Stay here.

McDermott waves gaily to the girls and disappears.

Bateman looks at the models. DAISY and CARON are staring

into space, smoking. LIBBY is trying to work out how to

unfold her napkin. Price signals to Bateman for help.

PRICE:

(Clapping his hands together)

Let's have a conversation. So...it was hot out today, no?

Silence.

LIBBY:

Where did Craig go?

PRICE:

Well, Gorbachev is downstairs. McDermott is going to

sign a peace treaty with him between the United States

and Russia. McDermott's the one behind glasnost, you know.

LIBBY:

Well...yeah. But he told me he was in mergers and acquisitions.

PRICE:

You're not confused, are you?

LIBBY:

No, not really.

CARON:

Gorbachev's not downstairs.

DAISY:

(Smiling)

Are you Iying?

PRICE:

Yes, Caron's right. Gorbachev's not downstairs. He's

at Tunnel.

BATEMAN:

(To Daisy)

Ask me a question.

DAISY:

So, what do you do?

BATEMAN:

What do you think I do?

DAISY:

A model? An actor?

BATEMAN:

No. Flattering, but no.

DAISY:

Well...

BATEMAN:

I m into, well, murders and executions mostly.

DAISY (Unfazed)

Do you like it?

BATEMAN:

Welt...it depends, why?

DAISY:

Well, most guys I know who work in mergers and

acquisitions don't really like it.

Silence.

BATEMAN:

So, where do you work out?

MUCH LATER IN THE EVENING:

The club is half-empty now. Price is leaning over a

balcony, messed-up on drugs. Bateman comes up behind him

in a menacing way that suggests he might push him over

the railing. Price turns around, wild-eyed, just as Bateman

is reaching for him.

PRICE:

(Shouting)

I'm leaving. I'm getting out.

BATEMAN:

Leaving what?

PRICE:

This.

Bateman is confused, he thinks Price is referring to his

drink.

BATEMAN:

Don't, I'll drink it.

PRICE:

(Screaming)

Listen to me, Patrick. I'm leaving.

BATEMAN:

Where to? Are you going to go get a gram?

PRICE:

I'm leaving! I...am...leaving!

BATEMAN:

Don't tell me...merchant banking?

PRICE:

No, you dumb son of a b*tch. I'm serious. I'm

disappearing.

BATEMAN:

(laughing)

Where to? Morgan Stanley? Rehab? What?

Price looks away.

McDermott and Daisy walk up to them.

McDERMOTT

Hey-don't worry, be happy.

Price lifts his arms up as if greeting the crowd and is

shouting something that can't be heard, then

PRICE:

Goodbye! Fuckheads!

He climbs over the railing.

DAISY What is he doing?

BATEMAN:

Price! Come back!

Price leaps from the balcony. He disappears for a moment

then resurfaces and runs off into the crowd.

EXT. CLUB - NIGHT

Bateman and Daisy are waiting for a cab.

DAISY:

My ex-boyfriend, Fiddler, who was in there, he plays

in this band that just opened for U2-he couldn't understand

what I was doing with a yuppie.

BATEMAN:

Oh really?

DAISY:

He said...

(She laughs)

He said you gave him bad vibes.

BATEMAN:

That's...that's too bad.

DAISY:

You think I'm dumb, don't you?

BATEMAN:

What?

DAISY:

You think I'm dumb. You think all models are dumb.

BATEMAN:

(insincerely) No. I really don't.

DAISY:

That's okay. I don't mind. There's something sweet about you.

She takes his hand as they get into a cab.

INT. DAISY'S HALLWAY - LATER THAT NIGHT

Bateman leaves Daisy's apartment carrying a suitcase. He pauses

in the hallway and tucks some long blonde hair back inside the

case.

INT. BATEMAN'S OFFICE - LATE AFTERNOON

Bateman sits at his desk wearing Wayfarers doing the New York

Times crossword puzzle at dusk.

Jean knocks gently on the half-open door and walks in with

a folder in her hand. Bateman ignores her.

JEAN:

Doin' the crossword?

Bateman nods without looking up.

JEAN:

Need help?

BATEMAN doesn't respond. We see that every space on the

puzzle has been filled in with the words MEAT or BONE. Jean

drops the folder on his desk and then walks out.

BATEMAN:

Jean?

JEAN:

(Re-enters office)

Yes, Patrick?

BATEMAN:

Would you like to accompany me to dinner?

He erases one of the M's on the crossword puzzle.

BATEMAN:

That is...if you're not doing anything.

JEAN:

Oh no. I have no plans.

BATEMAN:

(Lowering his Wayfarers)

Well, isn't this a coincidence.

A pause.

BATEMAN:

Listen, where should we go?

He leans back and pulls a Zagat's from the desk drawer.

JEAN:

Anywhere you want?

BATEMAN:

Let's not think about what I want. How about

anywhere you want.

JEAN:

Oh Patrick, I can't make this decision.

BATEMAN:

No, come on. Anywhere you want.

JEAN:

Oh, I can't.

(Sighs)

I don't know.

BATEMAN:

Come on. Where do you want to go? Anywhere you want.

Just say it. I can get us in anywhere.

A long pause.

JEAN:

What about...Dorsia?

Bateman stops looking through the Zagat's guide and smiles

at her.

BATEMAN:

Soooo...Dorsia is where Jean wants to go...

JEAN:

Oh, I don't know. No, we'll go anywhere you want.

BATEMAN:

Dorsia is...fine.

He dials the number.

MAITRE D'

Dorsia, yes?

BATEMAN:

Yes, can you take two tonight, oh, let's say at

nine o'clock?

He checks his Rolex and winks at Jean.

MAITRE D'

We are totally booked.

BATEMAN:

Oh really? That's great.

MAITRE D'

I said we are totally booked.

BATEMAN:

Two at nine? Perfect.

MAITRE D'

There are no tables available tonight. The waiting list is

also totally booked.

BATEMAN:

See you then.

He hangs up the phone. He walks over to the coat rack. He

glances over at Jean, who is still standing in front of the

desk, confused.

BATEMAN:

Yes? You're dressed...okay.

JEAN:

You didn't give them a name.

BATEMAN:

They know me.

Pause.

BATEMAN:

Why don't you meet me at my house at seven o'clock

for drinks, okay?

She turns to leave.

BATEMAN:

And Jean? You'll want to change before we go out.

INT. BATEMAN'S APARTMENT - EARLY EVENING

Jean stands by the floor-to-ceiling windows, looking out.

JEAN:

Patrick, it's so...elegant. What a wonderful view.

Bateman opens up the freezer where Daisy's head is cleady

visible.

BATEMAN:

Jean? Sorbet?

JEAN:

Thanks, Patrick. I'd love some.

Bateman walks in with a bottle of wine and a corkscrew in

his hand and hands her the sorbet.

Jean is eating the sorbet.

JEAN:

Want a bite?

BATEMAN:

I'm on a diet. But thank you.

JEAN:

You don't need to lose any weight. You're kidding, right?

You look great. Very fit.

BATEMAN:

(Weighing the corkscrew examining the point for sharpness)

You can always he thinner. Look...better.

JEAN:

Well, maybe we shouldn't go out to dinner. I don't

want to ruin your willpower.

BATEMAN:

No. It's all right. I'm not very good at controlling

it anyway.

Silence, as Bateman walks around his apartment, opens up

his knife drawer, looking at the knives.

BATEMAN:

So listen, what do you really want to do with your

life?

Pause.

BATEMAN:

And don't tell me you enjoy working with children,

okay?

JEAN:

Well, I'd like to travel. And maybe go back to school,

but I really don't know...I'm at a point in my life

where there seems lo be a lot of possibilities, but I'm so...

I don't know...unsure.

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