Being Flynn Page #4

"stinko, blotto, legless,

smashed, soaked,

"screwed, blasted,

"hammered, tore up, ripped up,

ripped, destroyed."

Cheerful stuff.

No one will ever read it.

I just did.

Come back to bed.

What will you

give me if I do?

JONATHAN:

Dear Mr. President.

The proper study

of mankind is man.

Ortega y Gasset defined genius as the

ability to invent one's occupation.

I am a writer,

a poet, a storyteller.

WOMAN:
(OVER INTERCOM) The library

will be closing in 10 minutes.

The library will be

closing in 10 minutes.

If the present holds any

promise of the years ahead,

the United States can look

forward to many generations of

executives unable to

spell their names correctly.

Yours, as ever,

Jonathan R. Flynn.

Give me that. That's my

personal property, you ape.

Thank you.

Tonight, I'm doing

a little after-hours banking.

I'm depositing

a check for $750,000,

an advance for my

novel The Button Man.

It's classic.

They're making a movie,

a movie of my life.

Excuse me?

They're making a movie.

Someone, behind the wall.

They are?

Who in living hell would want to

make a movie about your life?

That would be one boring,

redundant, piece of sh*t movie.

Here you go.

You have to take

it outside, Eric.

Oh, what a pleasant

surprise. Thank you.

You're welcome.

Dawn of a new day.

I like that.

I'm going to write

a poem about you, Dawn.

You are too sweet.

Cheers.

Cheers.

Dawn. Sawn...

(MUTTERS INDISTINCTLY)

(GRUNTING)

NICK:
He's seen this before.

Bums sprawled out from drinking.

But he has never actually

stood over the blowers,

let the hot air

seep into his clothes.

The air is sucked

out of the library.

Even on the coldest nights

there is too much heat inside.

It's another prison,

these blowers.

Because once you have landed,

you can't leave.

Because one step off the blower

is cold, hypothermia cold,

now that you are

sodden with steam.

The blower is a room

of heat with no walls.

My father is an invisible

man, in an invisible room,

in the invisible city.

Whoo!

I really appreciate

the help, sir.

Call me Carlos.

Okay. Carlos.

So, Jerry, how many nights

have you been homeless?

Just one night. One bad

night with the wife, boy.

That is all it takes,

one bad night.

You got that right.

What is up, Nick?

MAN:
For the new guys,

no bottles or weapons, okay?

All right, you're good.

Stretch your arms out for me, sir.

Please? Thank you.

All right.

Step up.

I'd like a room

for the evening.

You want a bed?

That'll do for now.

Well, this is

a pleasant surprise.

So, you're

employed here now?

Yes, I'm employed here.

Well, I approve. We are put on

this Earth to help other people.

You must be gathering

some excellent material.

MAN:
Hey. You giving

out tickets, or what?

Many thanks.

And if a private room does

open up, I'd be grateful.

Hey, what's up?

My father is here.

What?

My father, he's here.

He's staying here,

he is a guest tonight.

Jesus.

CARLOS:
Oh, sh*t.

Your dad is sleeping here.

Your own father.

Nick, man, you are

the unluckiest guy I know.

Thanks, Carlos. Just keep it

to yourself, man. Please?

No worries.

Hey, Nick. You feel

like going home tonight?

No. Why?

Because your

father is here.

So you heard

about that.

Yeah.

Who else knows?

We are with you, man.

F***ing Carlos.

Maybe you could take the night off.

You know, I can get a fill-in.

No.

It's my job.

I work here.

Let's go.

Come with me.

Bottom bunk.

JONATHAN:
Nicholas.

Interesting view.

I thought you were staying

at a friend's place?

A couple of things

fell through.

I was bunking in

my cab for a while,

but that is no

longer possible.

So I have been

sleeping alfresco.

Alfresco? You mean outside?

For how long?

Three weeks or so.

Don't look so grave. This is

a great opportunity for me.

What opportunity?

The opportunity

to freeze to death?

The opportunity to see

how the other half lives.

The poor, the downtrodden.

I'm doing the same thing here

as you are, gathering material.

No, I'm not gathering material.

This is my life.

Life is gathering material.

I like that. Help me

remember that.

They won't even let me bring

a goddamned pen up here.

Can't you do

anything about that?

No. Don't you have any

clout around here?

Sorry.

Well, anyway, my writing is going

extremely well, by the by.

I'm already almost done with

my revisions to Chapter 37.

Perhaps I'll let you read it someday.

It's classic.

Okay, look, you can't stay here.

Why not?

Because I work here.

Well, don't worry. This is only

a very temporary situation.

I don't want to disrupt

your life in the least.

I have a friend of mine who's

begging me to move down to Florida.

He has a guest house

and a job there for me.

Okay. Florida,

that sounds great.

In the meantime,

this is an excellent

opportunity for

you and I to make

up for lost time.

Destiny has brought us together

for one fleeting moment.

Let us not spit

in its eye.

IVAN:
Thank you

again, man.

And you know, let me know if

that sh*t don't work out.

Let me know, all right?

MAN:
Okay.

We'll see you.

All right.

I mean, you could ask him

to stay here for a few days.

No, he can't.

I don't even know if

the Florida thing is real.

I hope so,

for your sake.

Just weed, right?

Excuse me?

You're only

selling weed, right?

Yeah, just weed.

I'm just saying,

he's your father.

Uh...

I've had father figures.

All right, Nick! Keep

your eye on the ball.

They were all burned up.

It's amazing what can happen

to the human body, Nick.

Hey! What the hell

are you showing him?

Hey, sweetie.

What the f***, Travis?

Pick that up! Come on,

I want to talk to you.

I thought he was a little

young to be driving a car.

You could have killed

yourself. Get inside!

Thank you very much.

You're welcome.

Have a good day.

You, too.

My mom had a lot of different

boyfriends, growing up.

Come on, buddy.

Good job.

But I never had a father.

Luckily, I had a mother.

Hey, who you

playing ball with?

Nobody. Myself.

Get your mitt.

Honey, I'm exhausted.

Okay.

All right.

Let me get my mitt.

Heads up!

Good one.

Thanks.

I'll be right back.

Okay.

You are not listening to me.

I'm listening.

He stole $30 from me!

I understand that.

Hey, Nick!

Jonathan asked me to

give this letter to you, man.

So he's some kind

of famous writer?

Yeah, that's why he's

staying at Harbor Street.

JONATHAN:
Dear Nick, many deep

thanks for your warm welcome.

I must say you

seemed anxious.

Of course, writers,

especially poets,

are particularly

prone to madness.

Hey, babe.

Okay.

There exists

a striking association

between creativity

and manic depression.

The only important thing, though,

is to simply do the work.

It's not a sharp pain, it's a dull pain.

I haven't eaten in two days.

Hey, straight through

the back, down the stairs.

JONATHAN:
Most

of these guys here are

a bunch of f***ing deadbeat

panhandlers and pederasts.

These perverts, they wouldn't

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