Clerks Page #27

The CUSTOMER leaves, wiping water from his face. RANDAL

salutes him.

DANTE:

(angrily)

What the f*** did you do that for?

RANDAL:

Two reasons:
one, I hate when the

people can't shut up about the stupid

tabloid headlines.

DANTE:

Jesus!

RANDAL:

And two, to make a point: title does

not dictate behavior.

DANTE:

What?

RANDAL:

If title dictated my behavior, as a

clerk serving the public, I wouldn't

be allowed to spit a mouthful of

water at that guy. But I did, so my

point is that people dictate their

own behavior. Hence, even though I'm

a clerk in this video store, I choose

to go rent videos at Big Choice.

(extends opened palm)

Agreed?

DANTE:

(shakes his head;

hands over keys)

You're a danger to both the dead and

the living.

RANDAL:

I like to think I'm a master of my

own destiny.

DANTE:

Please, get the hell out of here.

RANDAL:

I know I'm your hero.

RANDAL exits.

CUT TO:

INT:
CONVENIENCE STORE. DAY

DANTE waits on a customer (TRAINER). He lifts the gallon of

milk into a paper bag, letting out a slight grunt.

TRAINER:

Sounds to me like somebody needs to

hit the gym.

DANTE:

Excuse me?

TRAINER:

I heard you strain when you put the

milk in the bag. That milk only weighs

about seven pounds.

DANTE:

I didn't strain. I sighed.

TRAINER:

I don't think so. That was a grunt;

a deep inhalation of oxygen to aid

in the stretching of muscles. I'm a

trainer. I know what that sound

signifies:
you're out of shape.

DANTE:

I don't think so.

TRAINER:

Oh, I do. You made the same noise

when you reached across the counter

for my cash. Your muscles are thin

and sadly underutilized.

DANTE:

They are not.

TRAINER:

Yes, they are. You're out of shape.

DANTE:

What are you talking about? There's

no fat on this body.

TRAINER:

No fat, but no tone either. You don't

get enough exercise.

A female customer (HEATHER) leans in the doorway.

HEATHER:

Are you open?

DANTE:

Yes.

HEATHER:

(grabs a paper)

Just the paper.

DANTE:

(to HEATHER)

Thirty-fire.

TRAINER:

(to HEATHER)

Let me ask you a question: Do you

think this guy's out of shape?

HEATHER:

(studies DANTE)

I don't know. I can't really tell

from here.

TRAINER:

He is.

DANTE:

I am not.

TRAINER:

How much can you bench?

DANTE:

I don't know.

HEATHER:

(studying DANTE)

I'd say about sixty, seventy-tops.

DANTE:

I know I can bench more than that!

TRAINER:

I think the lady called it.

HEATHER:

My ex-boyfriend was about his height,

but he was much bulkier. He could

bench two-fifty, three hundred easy.

TRAINER:

I do about three-fifty, four.

HEATHER:

No way!

TRAINER:

(rolling up sleeve)

Feel that.

HEATHER:

That's tight. Solid.

TRAINER:

Now feel his.

(to DANTE)

Roll up your sleeve, chief.

DANTE:

Oh for God's sake!

TRAINER:

See? You're ashamed. You know you're

out of shape. Take my card. I can

help you tone that body up in no

time. Get you on an aerobics and

free-weights program.

A SUITED MAN carrying a notebook comes to the counter.

SUITED MAN:

You open?

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes