Fatal Instinct Page #6

FRANK:

How we gonna do that? Didn't you

tell me he hates trains?

LANA:

That's where you come in, baby. You're

gonna rig his car so it doesn't work.

That should be no problem for you.

She gets up, walks to the adjoining room... snapping her

fingers at her side. He follows.

She steps to a table, pulls the cover off an elaborate scale-

model of Dealey Plaza and a train station, complete with HO-

Scale model trains chugging around the tracks.

She uses a pointer to trace the route to the depot.

LANA:

Then... we give him a lift to the

train station... through Dealey Plaza,

past the Book Suppository and around

the grassy knoll...

FRANK:

Isn't that out of our way?

Ignoring this, she turns the LIGHTS OFF, walks over to a

screen and picks up a remote control. She clicks the button.

A SLIDE PROJECTOR comes on, throwing an IMAGE on Frank's

back. We can read the words: THE PLAN.

LANA:

Move, Frank.

He moves over. "THE PLAN" appears on the screen.

LANA:

And pay attention.

As she talks, IMAGES appear on the screen, accompanying her

rapid spiel. We see: a shot of the depot, a map of the rail

route, a gun, a river, a Bingo game, baseball action and a

huge dollar sign!

LANA:

Ten minutes out of the station he'll

be standing in the vestibule between

cars... trying to avoid a panic

attack. Fourteen minutes and ten

seconds out, the train crosses the

Santa Ynez River. So at thirteen

minutes and fifty-four seconds, I

shoot him, shove him out the door...

he hits the river and drowns. Bingo!

A triple play. We're rich!

The lights click ON.

FRANK:

You been thinking about this a lot,

haven't you?

LANA:

No. It just came to me.

(closer, seductive)

I had this image of a big, powerful,

throbbing train... plunging into a

long, dark, wet tunnel.

They embrace, kissing passionately, dropping out of frame.

The model train CHUGS faster, the train whistle SHRIEKING a

long "Woooooooo-woooooooooo!"... racing into a model tunnel.

INT. POLICE STATION - SQUAD ROOM - NIGHT

Ned and Arch drag in a bunch of bad-ass, multi-ethnic GANG

MEMBERS they've just busted. Ned angrily shoves one of the

toughest gang members against the wall... losing his cool.

NED:

Stand over there and shut up!

GANG MEMBER #1

Hey, man, we got rights! Don't you

be layin' no deleterious malfeasance

on us.

Ned goes ballistic and slams him into the wall again!

NED:

Watch your mouth, punk! I don't want

to hear language like that!

Arch grabs Ned by the shoulder, pulling him back, calming

him.

ARCH:

Whoa, hold on, hoss! Take it easy.

You seem a little tense tonight.

What is it?

Ned regains his composure. He's depressed.

NED:

Aw... I don't know. I guess it's

Lana. It's just... I know she wants

to have a baby so bad...

Gang Member #1 steps closer, listening.

NED:

...but I never get to spend any time

with her. And when I am home... it's

like she's, you know... avoiding

sex.

Gang Member #1 steps closer, listening.

GANG MEMBER #1

You should try to be more sensitive,

man. More romantic. Bring her flowers.

He steps between them, putting his arm around Ned's shoulder.

GANG MEMBER #1

Try to understand how she feels.

After all...

He steps back, begins to SING "Try A Little Tenderness"...

GANG MEMBER #1

She may be weary... Women do get

weary... Wearing that same old shabby

dress... But when she's weary... Try

a little ten-der-ness...

The other Gang Members join in on the SECOND VERSE with a

sweet, mellow street-corner harmony as back-up... and some

smooth group choreography.

The COPS on duty listen raptly, getting maudlin and dewey-

eyed. Tears roll down the cheeks of the BOOKING SERGEANT.

The lights dim. A big, gruff COP makes eyes at a HOOKER being

booked... and they start to slow dance.

Arch watches all this with a sentimental smile, munching on

his Nachos. When the song ends, Arch puts a comforting hand,

covered with Nacho cheese, on Ned's shoulder.

NED:

That can't be it. I'm the tenderest

guy on the force. Nah... I think

she's just afraid she won't be able

to get pregnant.

ARCH:

What's to be afraid! It's like making

breakfast! You bring home the bacon...

she's got the eggs. Ya scramble it

up. Ba-da-boom ba-da-bing! She's got

an omelette in the oven!

(a beat, then)

Why don't you knock off early... go

home. It'd be nice for Lana to wake

up in the morning and find you there

for a change.

NED:

Naw... I can't. I got all this

paperwork.

ARCH:

Don't worry about that.

GANG MEMBER #1

We'll do our own paperwork, man!

OTHER GANG MEMBERS

Yeah! We'll fill out all that sh*t.

Ned nods, smiles and gratefully "high-fives" the Gang Members

as he heads for the door.

INT. THE HOUSE - LATER THAT NIGHT

The house is dark. A key turns in the lock and Ned enters.

IN THE BEDROOM:

It's dark. Ned quietly undresses and slips into bed.

INT. BEDROOM - CLOSE ON LANA - DAWN

Sunlight creeps through the windows. Lana's eyes flutter

open. She sees Ned beside her... sleeping. Suddenly, it hits

her. She turns! Frank is on the other side, curled up,

snoring. She's laying between both men!

Lana elbows Frank. He stirs, groggy. She covers his mouth...

indicating Ned. Frank's eyes bug out! He slips out of bed.

The bed frame SQUEAKS LOUDLY! Frank freezes. Ned sleeps on

steadily.

Frank grabs his clothes. An unending torrent of coins fall

out of his pants pockets, CLANGING on the floor! He freezes.

Ned sleeps on. Frank retrieves the coins, clumsily stepping

on the TV REMOTE CONTROL.

A high-tech, sleekly designed TELEVISION MONITOR rises up...

clicks ON. Frank tries frantically to push the set down, but

it keeps rising into position. An IMAGE appears. It's WILLARD

SCOTT, doing the weather on the TODAY SHOW.

Frank grabs the remote control, frantically pounding on all

the buttons. The VOLUME goes up... SOUND BLASTING!

WILLARD SCOTT:

(on television)

...and Mrs. Prudy Ann Camomile of

Delphi, Georgia is one-hundred and

thirteen! What a gorgeous hunk of

female! Smokes three cigars a day,

drinks a straight shot of vodka at

bedtime... and still has sex!

The alarm clock goes off, CLANGING LOUDLY! Lana dives for

it, slamming her hand down, killing the alarm.

Going for a double-play, she flings the clock at the TV,

nailing the on/off switch! Silence. Ned is still out cold.

Frank moves toward the door... but with each step the floor

CREAKS LOUDLY! He turns the knob. It CLUNKS! He pulls the

door open v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y and it CRE-E-E-E-A-K-S like

the piercing metal brakes of a train!

He blows Lana a kiss, then pulls the door closed very gently.

It sticks. He pulls harder. The knob pops off in his hand

and he falls backward, tumbling down the stairs with a HUGE

RACKET! Ned doesn't stir. Finally it's SILENT. Lana exhales.

A SMALL BIRD lands on the sill of the open window, trilling

a sweet little "CHIRP." Ned sits bolt upright, irritated.

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