Erin Brockovich Page #2

Ed peers into his office. It's a mess -- papers everywhere,

unopened mail. Standing in the middle of the room is Erin,

in a teensy, leopard-print mini-dress. As she jiggles a spike-

heeled foot, everything about her shimmies gloriously.

Except her head, which is held in place by a neck brace.

ED:

Remind me.

BRENDA:

Erin Brockovich. Car accident. Not

her fault, she says.

(beat. They exchange

looks)

She was referred.

He nods.

INT. MASRY & VITITOE - ED'S OFFICE - DAY

Not an office that necessarily exudes authority, and ED's

blustery entrance only adds to the sense of chaos.

ED:

Erin -- hi. Sorry you had to wait.

Here, sit down, sit down.

He clears a stack of papers off a chair, places down a mug

of coffee.

ERIN:

Thanks a lot.

(as she sits)

I tell you, I never thought just

standing would take it out of me,

but ever since that shithead hit me,

it feels like my whole body's put

together wrong.

Ed gives her a look of pro-forma sympathy.

ED:

(sits)

Jesus, you poor thing. Did anyone

ask if you want some coffee?

ERIN:

Yeah. I'm fine.

ED:

Great. Well, listen... whoever did

this to you made one hell of a

mistake, and you and me, we're gonna

make him pay for it.

He sips coffee like it's a healing potion, takes out a pad

and paper, gets ready to write.

ED:

Why don't you tell me what happened?

CUT TO:

INT. SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA COURTROOM - DAY

Erin is on the stand, wearing the most conservative thing

she owns:
a red, form-fitting mini dress, telling her story

to Ed, who's questioning her.

ERIN:

I was pulling out real slow, and out

of nowhere, his Jaguar comes racing

around the corner like a bat outta

hell...

She glances at the defendant's table, where a DOCTOR sits

nobly. His WIFE and two beautiful KIDS are behind him. A

frigging Norman Rockwell painting.

LATER IN HER TESTIMONY

ERIN:

They took some bone from my hip and

put it in my neck. I didn't have

insurance, so I'm about seventeen

thousand in debt right now.

STILL LATER:

ERIN:

...couldn't take painkillers 'cause

they made me too groggy to take care

of my kids.

STILL LATER:

ERIN:

...Matthew's six, Katie's four, and

Beth's just nine months.

STILL LATER:

ERIN:

...just wanna be a good mom, a nice

person, a decent citizen. Just wanna

take good care of my kids. You know?

ED:

(oh so moved)

Yeah. I know.

INT. COURTROOM - LATER

Erin is still on the stand. But now the doctor's lawyer is

questioning her.

DEFENDING LAWYER

Seventeen thousand in debt. Whew. Is

your ex-husband helping out?

ERIN:

Which one?

DEFENDING LAWYER

(feigning shock)

There's more than one?

ERIN:

Yeah. There's two. Why?

Erin looks over at the jury. The personification of

conservative family values. Oh, sh*t.

LATER IN HER TESTIMONY

ERIN:

(getting defensive)

...not like a career, 'cause I had

my babies. But I woulda worked, for

sure, if I didn't have this neck

thing.

Erin sees a juror staring in judgment at her short hem. Erin

gives it a tug, pulling it down a stitch.

DEFENDING LAWYER

(sarcastic)

Right. No doubt.

Erin sees a few jurors share dubious glances. Great.

STILL LATER:

The defendant's lawyer is on the offensive. Erin's starting

to feel the case slipping away.

DEFENDING LAWYER

So. You must've been feeling pretty

desperate that afternoon.

ERIN:

(pointed)

What's your point?

Ed shakes his head slightly to her -- don't get mad.

DEFENDING LAWYER

Broke, three kids, no job. A doctor

in a Jaguar must've looked like a

pretty good meal ticket.

Erin sees jurors nodding almost imperceptibly in agreement.

She's on a sinking ship.

ERIN:

What? Hey -- he hit me.

DEFENDING LAWYER

So you say.

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