Bruce Almighty Page #9

38.

BRUCE (cont'd)

Everyone with a brain in their head

would know that the drawer is being

· fed through the wall from behind--

Bruce pulls the file cabinet from the wall, sees it has a

normal back.

BRUCE:

Okay. That's good. That's a good

one.

Bruce quickly puts his hands behind his back.

BRUCE:

Okay, God. How many fingers am I

holding out?

Bruce extends three fingers.

GOD:

Three.

He quickly pulls one finger in.

GOD:

Two.

Bruce begins switching fingers rapidly. God doesn't miss a

beat.

GOD:

Four. Nine. Six. Eight. One...

One final attempt, Bruce holds seven fingers.

BRUCE:

Okay, how about now.

He quickly pulls in two fingers.

GOD:

Seven.

.BRUCE

AH HAl

Bruce proudly presents his single hand of five extended

fingers to God, then immediately notices he has SEVEN FINGERS

ON HIS ONE HAND.

BRUCE:

AAAHHHl

39,

He shakes his fingers wildly and the two extra fingers

disappear. God approaches Bruce.

GOD:

You've been doing a lot of

complaining about me, Bruce. And

quite frankly, I'm tired of it...

Bruce backs away from God.

BRUCE:

You stay away from me! I don't

know what your doing. But whatever

you're doing is probably

actionable!

GOD:

Well, that's not very neighborly.

I brought you here to offer you a

job.

BRUCE:

Job? Wh at job?

GOD:

My job. You think you can do it

better, so here's your chance.

When you leave this building you

will be endowed with all my powers.

BRUCE:

Sure, whatever you say, Pal.

He turns to go but GOD STANDS BEFORE HIM in the Janitor

uniform, holding the mop.

GOD:

All the power of God.

Bruce glances back at the empty desk, turns back again and

God the Janitor has also vanished. A beat, then Bruce

sprints out of the room.

EXT. OMNI PRESENTS - DAY

Bruce barrels out of the building --

BRUCE:

Okay, that did not happen.

He races to his car stepping in the SAME PUDDLE, but this

time his foot doesn't sink, he WALKS RIGHT ACROSS IT. He

paus es f or a bea t --

40.

BRUCE:

No.

He races on.

INT. BRUCE'S CAR

Bruce jumps in, turns the key, the car turns over but doesn't

start.

BRUCE:

I'm having a breakdown. That's

what it is. Just a normal,

everyday psychotic episode, brought

on by tumor or brain lesion...

We hear the car wind down to nothing. Bruce releases the key

pounds the steering wheel in frustration.

BRUCE:

(to the car)

Come on, startI

The car INSTANTLY starts.

BRUCE:

(denial)

Well, that was lucky.

Bruce backs up, peels out.

MUSIC UP:
"HE'S GOT THE WHOLE WORLD IN HIS HANDS"

EXT. CITY STREETS

Bruce drives, whistling the tune, catches himself,

immediately stops whistling.

BRUCE:

Okay, just relax here. I did not

meet God and I do not have his

powers.

(laughs)

If that was God, then I'm Mario

Andretti.

Instantly, Bruce's car PEELS OUT, races through traffic,

dodging and passing cars right and left.

BRUCE:

AAAHHHHHHHH!J!

41.

Suddenly there is a GUY IN A RED PIT CREW SUIT standing

before Bruce waving a red flag. Bruce swerves to avoid the

man and SCREECHES into a pit stop. Several other red-suited

Italian men engulf the car. Bruce watches in amazement as the

professional racing team jacks up his car, slaps on HUGE MAG

TIRES, gases him up, etc. PAUL NEWMAN leans into the

driver's window.

PAUL NEWMAN:

Hey Mario, did you get that box of

dressing I sent you?

Bruce responds against his will IN PERFECT ITALIAN --

BRUCE:

(in perfect Italian)

Si, dovete venire sopra per il

pranzo un certo tempo.

(SUBTITLES:
Yes, you must

come over for dinner some

time.)

Bruce reacts shocked. The crew backs off and urges him on in

Italian.

PIT CREW:

Vete l Ve tel

Bruce's car peels out on it's own, he struggles to control

the wheel, finally pulling over to a curb. His car door

won't open so he has to crawl out of the driver's window.

He rushes onto the sidewalk, backing away from his normal

looking Tauras. Not knowing what to do, he slips into a

diner.

INT. DINER - DAY

Bruce quickly walks to a back corner booth. The only other

patron is an OLD MAN seated at the counter.

BRUCE:

It isn't real, it isn't real, it

isn't real...

An older. Sally Kirkland-type WAITRESS, order pad in hand,

stands listening to Bruce with a raised eyebrow.

BRUCE:

Oh hi, ah, coffee please.

The waitress pours him a cup.

Rate this script:4.5 / 2 votes