Conspiracy Theory Page #12

INT. APARTMENT 202 - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT

Jerry and Liza enter. Closing the door behind them, he

switches on the light. Liza looks from the filing

cabinets to the silvery particle board covering the

walls.

LIZA:

Is this supposed to protect you

from aliens?

Jerry doesn't answer as he locks the door, picks the

empty beer bottle up off the floor.

JERRY:

You know why the Grateful Dead are

always on tour?

LIZA:

Surprise me.

JERRY:

The whole kit and caboodle of 'em

are British Intelligence agents.

Spies. Jerry Garcia had a double-

o rating. Just like James Bond.

Jerry sits the beer bottle on the doorknob, turns, heads

off. Liza looks at the bottle, then, "a la Bond"...

LIZA:

Garcia, Jerry Garcia.

As he moves to follow...

FILE LABYRINTH:

They snake their way through the towering files.

JERRY:

You want something to drink?

LIZA:

Um, coffee. If that's okay?

Jerry looks back over his shoulder, smiles.

JERRY:

Coffee's our friend.

KITCHEN:

Liza watches as Jerry unchains the refrigerator. He

misinterprets the look on her face.

JERRY:

I keep the beans in the fridge.

They stay fresher that way.

As Jerry removes one of the stainless steel containers,

Liza reads some of his magnetic poetry off the door.

LIZA:

Must language produce a thousand

knives and not recall a whisper?

(then another)

I love the delicate shadow of she

wanting me to be.

Liza smiles at Jerry who looks up sheepishly from the

container. He's having trouble with the lock.

JERRY:

Forgot the combination... You want

some grapefruit juice?

INT. JERRY'S BEDROOM - NIGHT

Jerry enters with Liza. The photo of Lennon gives her

pause. She looks at the surrounding files then watches

as Jerry turns the mimeograph drum, starts printing

something.

JERRY:

If my universe had a hub...

LIZA:

This would be it?

Jerry nods. Liza steps to the drafting table where Jerry

has done several rough, but competent sketches of horses

in motion. There's a book open to a photo of a horse and

rider jumping a rail. Liza closes it, reads:

LIZA:

Equitation.

JERRY:

I've been reading up on it.

LIZA:

(re:
sketches)

Are these yours?

Jerry nods, embarrassed. As he staples some papers

together, Liza stops short. In the margin of one of the

drawings are two small profile sketches of her. Eyes

closed, it looks like she's sleeping.

JERRY:

Here it is. Conspiracy Theory

(proudly hands

it over)

It just went out Tuesday. Third

issue this year. I bet I struck a

nerve. Pissed someone off.

LIZA:

(scans contents)

'The Space Shuttle's Seismic

Secret'. 'The Oliver Stone-George

Bush Connection'.

(looks up)

Oliver Stone?

JERRY:

Stone is their spokesman. You

think if someone really had all

that information and a national

podium to shout it out from that

they'd let him do it? Stone's a

disinformation flunky. The face

that he's alive says it all.

LIZA:

Can you prove any of this?

JERRY:

Absolutely not. A good conspiracy

is an unprovable conspiracy. If

you can figure it out, they

screwed it up.

Liza flips through, reads the lead-in to one story aloud.

LIZA:

'On July 8, 1979, security forces

under control of the Trilateral

Commission abducted the fathers of

all American Nobel Prize winners.

The men, many of them

octogenarians, were forced at

gunpoint to ejaculate into small

plastic bottles. The sperm

collected is now under study in a

laboratory beneath the

headquarters of the Rand

Corporation in Santa Monica,

California.'

JERRY:

Pretty scary, huh?

LIZA:

Yeah... how many subscribers do

you have?

JERRY:

(embarrassed)

Just five. It's the economy...

You think maybe one of them is not

who they seem?

LIZA:

You got a list?

Jerry nods, goes about digging one up. Liza steps to a

bookshelf and fifteen different copies of The Catcher in

the Rye.

LIZA:

You're a Holden Caulfield fan.

JERRY:

Who?

LIZA:

Holden Caulfield? Catcher in the

Rye?

JERRY:

Never heard of him.

LIZA:

You have ten copies of the book,

but you don't know who the main

character is?

JERRY:

I've never read it. I just --

Every time I see one I buy it. I

don't know why exactly... Wanna

hear my favorite part?

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