Fatal Instinct Page #19

NED:

The defense calls... Lana Ravine!

INT. COURTROOM - LATER

Lana is on the stand. The Bailiff swears her in.

BAILIFF:

Do you swear to tell the truth, the

whole truth and nothing but the truth

so help you God?

LANA:

(looks to Judge)

Do I have to answer that, Harlan?

JUDGE SKANKY:

No, no dear. I'll vouch for her.

Ned approaches.

NED:

Now, Mrs. Ravine... may I call you

Lana?

LANA:

No. Call me Angel Tits.

PROSECUTOR:

I object!

JUDGE SKANKY:

Sustained. Counselor... you will

address Angel Tits as Mrs. Ravine.

NED:

(after a beat)

Mrs. Ravine... would you please tell

the court... what were you doing on

that train?

LANA:

I saw Max Shady at the station...

saw him get on board. I knew he'd

made threats to kill you and mutilate

your reproductive organs...

Ned and EVERY MALE in the courtroom winces at this, doubling

over in imagined agony. Lana pauses, then continues...

LANA:

...so I got on the train too... so I

could warn you.

NED:

Do you want to have children?

LANA:

Someday. With the right man.

NED:

But you couldn't have children if

my...

(makes a gesture)

...were...

(another gesture)

...and, uh...

LANA:

It would be difficult.

NED:

So you followed him, knowing you had

to protect me... your husband...

your best friend... the man you

love... the future father of your

children.

LANA:

Something like that.

NED:

And when you saw that maniac standing

in the vestibule, waiting to pulverize

my pee-pee... you pulled the gun and

fired and fired and FIRED!

LANA:

And fired and fired and fired and

fired and fired and fired and fired...

She pauses to count off on her fingers, then...

LANA:

...and fired and fired and fired.

NED:

The defense rests, your Honor.

INT. COURTROOM - LATER

The COURTROOM ARTIST has been sketching intensely throughout

the trial. We finally see... he's been sketching a BOWL OF

FRUIT on the Court Recorder's desk. Ned picks up some fruit

from the bowl and approaches the defense table.

NED:

How can you convict a courageous

woman who risked everything to save

the life of her beloved husband? A

woman who acted boldly to stop a

demented maniac from doing THIS!...

Ned shoves the BANANA and two PLUMS into a demonstration

blender on the defense table. He hits the puree button and

the blender WHIRRS loudly!

NED:

(shouts over)

...pulverizing the private parts of

the man she loves!

All MALES in the courtroom react with pained expressions,

cringing and doubling-over. Ned turns the blender off.

NED:

(directly to Jury)

Lana Ravine is a loving wife and the

potential mother of my potential

child. I challenge YOU to strike a

blow for motherhood and the American

justice system! Put the "con" back

in the Constitution. Put the "ju"

back in jurisprudence. Put the "can"

back in American. And put the "dom"

back in freedom. Find this woman

INNOCENT!... so we can all go to bed

happy tonight!

INT. PRESS ROOM - LATER

A REPORTER opens the door marked PRESS ROOM. Inside, a DOZEN

REPORTERS press their pants on a dozen ironing boards.

REPORTER:

The jury's back!

The Reporters scramble for the door, pulling their pants on!

INT. COURTROOM - LATER

The CAMERA FOLLOWS a folded piece of paper as the Jurors

pass it along to the FOREMAN... who hands it to the Bailiff...

who hands it to the Judge. He unfolds it, reads it... then

winks flirtatiously at the FEMALE JUROR who wrote it. She

blushes.

JUDGE SKANKY:

(back to business)

So... has the jury reached a verdict?

JURY FOREMAN:

(stands up)

Yes we have, your Honor.

JUDGE SKANKY:

How do you find the defendant... on

the count of manslaughter?

JURY FOREMAN:

Not guilty.

JUDGE SKANKY:

On the count of murder in the first

degree?

JURY FOREMAN:

Not guilty.

JUDGE SKANKY:

On the Count of Monte Cristo?

JURY FOREMAN:

Not guilty.

A BOISTEROUS CLAMOR in the court. The electronic signs FLASH

"NOT GUILTY!"... "NOT GUILTY!"... "NOT GUILTY!"

JUDGE SKANKY:

Good. Then on the count of three,

let's all get the hell out of here!

One... two...

The Jury and Spectators start to rise. The Judge hesitates,

gavel poised, shooting them a warning look.

JUDGE SKANKY:

Wait... for... it...

Everyone FREEZES halfway out of their seats... waiting.

JUDGE SKANKY:

Two and a half... THREE!

He smacks his gavel. Everyone scatters for the doors, but

Judge Skanky beats them out of the room.

Lana turns cool, dropping her courtroom facade. She plucks

off her earrings, unbuttons the neck of her dress, reaches

in and magically pulls out her bra, tossing it away.

LANA:

Well, counselor, looks like you won

another case. Lucky for me.

TWO LEGAL AIDES sneak up behind Ned and dump a big plastic

barrel of Gatorade cans over his head!

BAILIFF (O.S.)

(over P. A. system)

Attention courtroom shoppers! All

trial evidence now on sale. Forty to

sixty percent off all exhibits!

Everything must go!

They turn to SEE: Spectators and Jurors browse through the

clutter of junk in front of the Court Clerk on the evidence

table. An IRRITABLE WOMAN claims the Irritable Man, grabbing

the cigar from his ear and throwing it down.

IRRITABLE WOMAN:

I told you, Bernard... smoking cigars

is bad for your hearing!

She pulls him away as Lana steps up, with a cigarette dangling

from her lips. Lana picks up her gun and spins the cylinder.

It's loaded. The battered Court Clerk limps over, smiling.

COURT CLERK:

Mrs. Ravine! What can I do for ya?

LANA:

How much for my gun?

Laura sees this... turns to Ned with a look of shock.

LAURA:

I don't believe it! She just bought

her gun back! The gun she used to

kill a man!

Ned looks off toward Lana with admiration.

NED:

Yeah... the same gun that saved my

life. I'm sure it has sentimental

value.

As Lana wades into the crowd of REPORTERS, some still without

pants, the CAMERA MOVES TO Lola, who is watching Lana from

the back of the courtroom.

Lola pulls a small cord hanging from the side of her hat...

opening her veil like window drapes. She's not happy.

INT. FRANK'S GARAGE - DAY

Frank lays on a mechanic's "creeper", working under a car.

Lana steps between his feet. He hears her and rolls out, his

crotch sliding to a stop against her legs. He looks up,

covered with black grease.

FRANK:

So... you did it. Ya beat the rap.

LANA:

No thanks to you.

He gets to his feet, cocky.

FRANK:

Hey... I knew he'd spring ya.

She walks toward him, her voice cold, accusing. He backs up.

LANA:

You didn't lift a finger, Frank. You

let me take all the heat.

FRANK:

Heeeee-eeey... what could I do?

Lana pulls the gun from her purse, pointing it at him.

LANA:

You were gonna let me rot in the

slammer... never say a thing.

FRANK:

Look... you're out... free. Now we're

together. That's what counts. We can

try again! Forget triple indemnity.

We'll whack him and split three mil.

LANA:

I'm not splitting anything, Frank.

(c*cks the gun)

And you know too much.

FRANK:

(arrogant)

Come on, Lana. You're not gonna shoot

me.

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