Being John Malkovich Page #3

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. 7 1/2 FLOOR - DAY

Don and Wendy, two office workers, crouch in the hall and

chat. Both hold cups of coffee.

WENDY:

Hello, Don.

DON:

Hello. Wendy.

WENDY:

Don, I was wondering, do you know

why our workplace has such low

ceilings?

DON:

It's an interesting story, Wendy.

Many years ago in the late 1800's,

James Mertin, an Irish ship captain

looking to invest in the future of

our great country, came to this town

and decided to erect an office

building.

CUT TO:

OLD FOOTAGE OF CONSTRUCTION CREW WORKING.

DON (CONT'D) (V.0.)

He would call this building the

Mertin-Flemmer Building, after

himself and someone else, who, local

legend has it, was named Flemmer.

CUT TO:

INT. 19TH CENTURY OFFICE - DAY

An actor playing Mertin sits at a desk and writes with

aquill. He appears very stern and has mutton chop

sideburns.

DON (CONT'D) (V.0.)

One day. Captain Mertin received an

unexpected visitor.

There is a knock at the door.

MERTIN:

Enter ye, if ye dare enter.

A tiny woman enters.

TINY WOMAN:

Captain Mertin?

MERTIN:

What want ye, girl child?

TINY WOMAN:

I am not a child, Captain Mertin,

but rather an adult lady of miniature

proportions.

MERTIN:

(taken aback)

I see. Well, it is not my fault that

thou art tiny. So if it is charity

yer after, then be gone with ye,

ye foul demon.

TINY WOMAN:

I am not asking for alms, but rather

the ear of a kind man with a noble

heart.

MERTIN:

(sighs)

Aye. Speak then if ye must.

TINY WOMAN:

Captain Mertin, surely I am a

God-fearing Christian woman like

yourself, but alas, I am afraid that

the world was not built with me in

mind. Door knobs are too high, chairs

are unwieldy, high-ceilinged rooms

mock my stature. Nor am I a marrie

lady, Captain. after all, who would

marry a person of my diminutiveness?

So I am forced to work for my few

pennies a week as an optometrist.

Why cannot there be a place for me

to work safe and comfortable?

Mertin wipes a tear from his eye.

MERTIN:

Woman, your story moves me like n

other. Me own sister was tiny and

then died. Therefore, I shall make

ye me wife. And I shall build a

floor in my building, between the

7th and 8th, which will be scaled

down, so from now on there shall

be at least one place on God's green

Earth that you and your accursed

kind can live in peace...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. HALLWAY 7 1/2 FLOOR - DAY

Don And Wendy crouch and talk.

DON:

So that's the story of 7 1/2. Since

the rents are considerably lower

this floor has been adopted by

businesses which for one reason

or another are forced to cut corners

After all... the overhead is low!

Ha ha ha!

WENDY:

Ha ha ha!

TITLE:
The End

CUT TO:

INT. ORIENTATION ROOM - DAY

The screen goes dark. The lights go up. Craig looks over

at Maxine. She stands and walks past him.

CRAIG:

Moving story.

MAXINE:

Yes. Unfortunately it's bullshit.

The real story of 7 1/2 is so evil

that it could never be revealed

to Americans raised on sitcoms and

happy news anchors.

CRAIG:

Is that true?

MAXINE:

Well, truth is for suckers, isn't

it?.

CRAIG:

Listen. I'm Craig Schwartz, just

starting out at LesterCorp.

MAXINE:

How dreary - to be - Somebody /

How public - like a Frog /

To tell one's name - the livelong June /

To an admiring Bog!

CRAIG:

(proudly)

Emily Dickinson.

MAXINE:

I wouldn't know.

Maxine walks away.

CUT TO:

INT. CRAIG AND LOTTE' S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Lotte chops onions. A parrot sits on her head. Craig stirs

a pot on the stove. A monkey leaps from the top of the

cabinet to the top of the refrigerator to the kitchen table.

A dog watches the monkey and barks at it.

PARROT:

Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!

CRAIG:

Shut up!

LOTTE:

(to Craig)

Sorry, honey.

The dog continues to bark.

PARROT:

Sorry honey. Sorry honey.

An offscreen neighbor pounds the wall.

NEIGHBOR (0.S.)

Shut up!

LOTTE:

(yelling)

Sorry!

Lotte grabs the parrot off her head and leaves the room.

PARROT (0.S.)

Help! She's locking me in a cage!

Lotte reenters.

LOTTE:

Isn't that cute? I just taught her

that.

CRAIG:

Adorable. What time are they supposed

to be here?

LOTTE:

Seven-ish

CRAIG:

We have to make it an early night.

LOTTE:

They'll understand. Besides I've got

a morning appointment tomorrow with

Elijah's shrink. We're getting to the

bottom of this acid stomach.

CRAIG:

(not paying attention)

Hmmm.

LOTTE:

Some sort of childhood trauma, she

thinks. Possible feelings of

inadequacy as a chimp. Interesting,

huh?

CRAIG:

Hmmm.

The doorbell rings. The dog barks. The parrot screams.

The neighbor pounds on the wall.

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. CRAIG AND LOTTE'S LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

The dining room table is set up. Craig and Lotte and their

friends Peter and Gloria are seated and eating dinner. There

is an obvious lull in the conversation.

PETER:

Good food, Lotte.

LOTTE:

Thanks. Craig helped, too, by the

way.

PETER:

Vegetarian, right?

LOTTE:

Yes. All vegetable. all the time.

PETER:

Amazing.

There is another lull. Everyone eats.

PETER (CONT'D)

No kidding about that 7 1/2 floor.

Craig?

CRAIG:

No kidding, Peter.

GLORIA:

That's great. It almost sounds like

make-believe.

(beat)

Like a storybook.

(beat)

like a fairy tale.

(beat)

It's really great.

(beat)

So Lotte, when you say all vegetable,

do you mean all vegetable entire1y?

CUT TO:

INT. PETER AND GLORIA'S CAR - NIGHT

Gloria and Peter drive in silence.

GLORIA:

Lotte told me that Eskimos have a

lot of words for snow.

PETER:

How many?

GLORIA:

Ten, I think.

PETER:

I wonder why so many.

GLORIA:

Because they have a lot of snow.

Isn't that interesting?

CUT TO:

INT. CRAIG AND LOTTE'S KITCHEN - NIGHT

Craig washes the dishes. Lotte dries them. They don’t

look at each other.

CUT TO:

INT. LESTERCORP FILE ROOM - MORNING

Craig in a cream colored suit, pours over the file cabinets.

Floris watches from the doorway.

FLORIS:

You're good.

Craig turns.

CRAIG:

(over-enunciating)

Thank you, Floris.

Floris shrugs, shakes her head.

FLORIS:

You're not like the other boys

we've had here. Granted, I can't

understand what you're saying either,

but your soft palette resonates

tremendously well and you never

ever constrict your epiglottis.

CRAIG:

I am a trained performer.

FLORIS:

(swooning)

Music to my ears! Whatever you said.

Speak, speak, speak, my magnificent

friend, speak!

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