American Psycho Page #5

COURTNEY:

I can't.

BATEMAN:

I'm thinking Dorsia.

COURTNEY:

Dorsia's nice.

BATEMAN:

Nice?

COURTNEY:

You like it there, don't you?

BATEMAN:

The question is do you like it, Courtney? And will

you blow off a f***ing phone call from your sad excuse for a

boyfriend to eat there tonight.

COURTNEY:

Okay. Yeah. What time?

BATEMAN:

Eight?

COURTNEY:

Pick me up?

BATEMAN:

Sounds like I'll have to. Don't fall asleep, okay? Wear

something fabulous. Dorsia, remember?

Bateman hangs up, opens up the Zagat's guide and dials the

number for Dorsia with trembling fingers. It's busy and so

he puts it on speakerphone, constant redial. He waits with

his head in his hands, sweating with anxiety, until there

is finally an answer.

MAITRE D'

Dorsia. Please hold.

He is on hold for a long time, getting very tense.

MAITRE D'

Dorsia.

BATEMAN:

(Both of his eyes are closed)

Umm...yes...I know it's a little late but is it possible to

reserve a table for two at eight or eight-thirty perhaps?

Long pause. The Maitre D' starts giggling quietly and then

more loudly until the laughter is almost hysterical and he

hangs up the phone.

INT. TAXI- NIGHT

Bateman and Courtney are in the back of a cab. Courtney is

heavily medicated.

COURTNEY:

A facial at Elizabeth Arden, which was really

relaxing, then to the Pottery Bam where I bought this

silver muffin dish.

(She starts to pass out)

BATEMAN:

Is that Donald Trump's car?

COURTNEY:

(Thickly)

Oh God, Patrick. Shut up.

BATEMAN:

You know, Courtney, you should take some more

lithium. Or have a Diet Coke. Some caffeine might get you

out of this slump.

COURTNEY:

I just want to have a child. Just...two...

perfect...children...

(Her voice trails as she descends back into a drug haze)

The cab draws up outside a restaurant. The awning reads

"Barcadia."

INT. BARCADIA - NIGHT

An insanely expensive nouvelle Italian restaurant all

polished natural brick, spotless white tablecloths,

minimalist flower arrangements, discreet lighting.

A waiter has come to take their drink orders.

BATEMAN:

J&B. Straight.

COURTNEY:

Champagne on the rocks. Oh-could I have that with

a twist? She starts to sink back in her chair and Bateman

leans over and pulls her back up.

COURTNEY:

Are we here?

BATEMAN:

Yes.

COURTNEY:

This is Dorsia?

BATEMAN:

(Examining a menu that says "Barcadia" in large script)

Yes, dear.

Courtney almost falls asleep while looking at her menu, and

starts to slide off of her chair. Bateman grabs her by both

shoulders and props her up.

BATEMAN:

Courtney, you're going to have the peanut butter

soup with smoked duck and mashed squash. New York magazine

called it a 'playful but mysterious little dish." You'll

love it. And then...the red snapper with violets and

pine nuts. I think that'll follow nicely.

COURTNEY:

Mmmm...thanks, Patrick.

She falls asleep at the table.

INT. COURTNEY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Bateman and Courtney are in Courtney's bed. Bateman is on

top of her, reaching for a condom in the ashtray. He tears

it open with his teeth, puts it on.

COURTNEY:

(Dazed on lithium)

I want you to f*** me.

Bateman gets on top of her, starts to f*** her.

COURTNEY:

Luis is a despicable twit.

BATEMAN:

Yes, Luis is a despicable twit. I hate him.

He keeps f***ing her.

COURTNEY:

No, you idiot. I said "Is it a receptacle tip?"

Not, is Luis a despicable twit. Is it a receptacle tip?

Get off me.

BATEMAN:

Is it a what?

COURTNEY:

Pull out.

BATEMAN:

I'm ignoring you.

COURTNEY:

(screaming)

Pull out, goddamnit!

BATEMAN:

(Slowing down but not stopping)

What do you want, Courtney?

She pushes him away from her.

BATEMAN:

It's a plain end. I think.

COURTNEY:

Turn the light on.

She tries to sit up.

BATEMAN:

Oh Jesus. I'm going home.

COURTNEY:

Patrick. Turn on the Light.

He turns on the light.

BATEMAN:

It's a plain end, see? So?

COURTNEY:

Take it off.

BATEMAN:

Why?

COURTNEY:

Because you have to leave half an inch at the tip –

(She covers herself with her comforter)

to catch the force of the ejaculate!

BATEMAN:

I'm getting out of here. Where's your lithium?

Courtney throws a pillow over her head and starts crying.

COURTNEY:

(Screaming)

Do you think you're turning me on by having unsafe sex?

Bateman pulls the pillow off her and slaps her face.

BATEMAN:

Oh Christ, this really isn't worth it. And see,

Courtney, it's there for what? Huh? Tell us.

(He slaps her again lightly)

Why is it pulled down half an inch?

So it can catch the force of the ejaculate!

COURTNEY:

(Choking crying)

Well, it's not a turn-on for me.

I have a promotion coming to me. I don't want to get AIDS.

Bateman grabs her head and makes her look at the condom.

BATEMAN:

See? Happy? You dumb b*tch? Are you happy, you dumb b*tch?

COURTNEY:

Oh God, just get it over with.

He fucks her quickly until he has a mediocre orgasm and

falls down next to her. They lie side by side with their

bodies not touching, eyes open, staring at the

ceiling.

INT. CONFERENCE ROOM, PIERCE & PIERCE - DAY

Bateman and Luis Carruthers are seated at a long table in

the conference room at Pierce & Pierce, which looks out onto

a spectacular view of Manhattan.

CARRUTHERS:

Patrick, thanks so much for looking after Courtney.

Dorsia, how impressive! How on earth did you get a

reservation there?

BATEMAN:

Lucky, I guess.

CARRUTHERS:

That's a wonderful jacket. Let me guess,

Valentino Couture?

BATEMAN:

Uh huh.

CARRUTHERS:

(Reaching out to touch it)

It looks so soft.

BATEMAN:

(Catching Luis hand)

Your compliment was sufficient Luis.

Carruthers is distracted by a question from the colleague

on his left.Paul Owen enters, carrying the Wall St. Journal

under his arm. He is handsome, supremely confident and

self-satisfied; he sees himself as a leader among men.

OWEN:

(To Bateman)

Hello, Halberstam. Nice tie. How the hell are you?

BATEMAN:

I've been great. And you?

Their conversation fades down as we hear Bateman's

thoughts.

BATEMAN (V.O.)

Owen has mistaken me for this d*ckhead Marcus Halberstam.

It seems logical because Marcus also works at P&P and in

fact does the same exact thing I do and he also has a

penchant for Valentino suits and Oliver Peoples glasses.

Marcus and I even go to the same barber, although I have

a slightly better haircut.

During this voiceover the CAMERA WANDERS over to MARCUS

HALBERSTAM, who is conferring with a colleague in the

opposite corner of the room. He bears a

superficial resemblance to Bateman.

OWEN:

How's the Ransom account going, Marcus?

BATEMAN:

(Nervous)

It's...it's...all right.

OWEN:

Really? That's interesting.

(He stares at Bateman, smiling)

Not great?

BATEMAN:

Oh well, you know.

OWEN:

And how's Cecilia? She's a great girl.

BATEMAN:

Oh yes. I'm very lucky.

McDermott and Price enter.

McDERMOTT

Hey. Owen! Congratulations on the Fisher account.

OWEN:

Thank you, Baxter.

PRICE:

Listen, Paul. Squash?

OWEN:

Call me.

(Hands him a business card)

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