Fletch

FADE IN:

EXT.CALIFORNIA BEACH – DAY 1

Seagulls squawk, and the waves pound, but we’re not talking about Malibu Colony, here. This is a fairly rundown beach area, catering to lower-echelon surfers, vagrants, and strung out druggies of all ages, several of whom stand or sit on their haunches by a dilapidated old hamburger stand. Over the stand is a faded sign: "FAT SAM’S HAMBURGERS".

A simple but haunting electronic melody plays in the b.g.

INT. "FAT SAM’S" – DAY 2

Seated just inside the stand on a folding aluminum chair is a chubby man in his late thirties. He’s wearing a stained valor sweat suit and a cap. This is Fat Sam. He’s a dealer. Seated on the sand next to him is Fletch, a rangy man, early thirties, in jeans and a Magic Johnson T-shirt, nodding idly on a battered Casio music machine which he treats lovingly. This is the source of the title music.

FLETCH:

So what do you figure?

FAT SAM:

No idea.

FLETCH:

No idea at all?

FAT SAM:

Okay. Some idea.

FLETCH:

Like when?

FAT SAM:

Like tonight.

FLETCH:

For sure?

FAT SAM:

No, not for sure. When it comes, it comes.

You gonna want some $hit?

FLETCH:

I think I’d rather have drugs.

CONTINUED:

FAT SAM:

(shakes head and smiles)

Fletch…

FLETCH:

Sorry. I find a little humor really brightens

things up around here, don’t you?

A young junkie with a black eye – Gummy – passes.

GUMMY:

Hi Sam. Hi Fletch.

FLETCH:

Hi Gummy. How’s the eye?

GUMMY:

It’s okay. The cops did it.

FLETCH:

I know.

GUMMY:

They busted me last week.

FLETCH:

They bust you every week.

GUMMY:

I know. I got bad luck or something.

Gummy exits. Fletch and Fat Sam watch him go.

FLETCH:

That kid spends any more time in jail

He’ll have to start paying rent.

WIDER ANGLE THROUGH BINOCULARS

Fat Sam and Fletch conclude their conversation. Fletch walks back among the drifters, the nervous, expectant junkies. He stops to talk to a young man propped up on his elbows on a towel. Creasy.

4 CREASY AND FLETCH

FLETCH:

Maybe tonight?

CREASY:

Whaddyamean 'maybe'?

FLETCH:

That's what he said.

CREASY:

(getting desperate)

He doesn't know? How come he doesn't know?

FLETCH:

I don't know how he doesn't know. He doesn't know.

CREASY:

Sonofabitch.

FLETCH:

Wonder who his supplier is.

CREASY:

I have no idea.

FLETCH:

I wasn't asking.

CREASY:

He never leaves the beach, Fat Sam. Never leaves.

Sits in that chair, he's outta junk. Then he suddenly

gets up, he's got junk. So where does it come from?

Through the sand?

FLETCH:

I think that's highly unlikely, Creasy.

CREASY:

(rolls over)

I ought to get some sleep.

FLETCH:

Creasy, how old are you?

CREASY:

Nineteen.

FLETCH:

(a touch of sadness)

You're not taking real good care of yourself.

5 WIDER - BINOCULARS AGAIN

---Fletch takes his Casio and starts off the beach. The binocular angle follows

---him. A pelican crosses the water. The binoculars move off Fletch and

---follow the flight of the pelican as it swoops low over the ocean.

6 BEACH PARKING LOT - DAY

---Fletch emerges into view, walking towards camera, when a Man steps into the

---immediate f.g., the binoculars at his side large in frame. Fletch Stops.

MAN:

Excuse me. I have something I'd like to discuss with you.

FLETCH:

What?

7 REVERSE

---A trim man of approximately Fletch's age, wearing a perfectly tailored grey

---suit, is standing across from Fletch. This is Alan Stanwyk.

STANWYK:

We can't talk about it here.

8 MASTER

FLETCH:

Why not?

STANWYK:

Because we can't.

FLETCH:

Are you on a scavenger hunt of some kind?

STANWYK:

I want you to come to my house. Then we'll talk.

FLETCH:

I think you've got the wrong gal, fella.

STANWYK:

I'll give you a thousand dollars cash just to

come to my house and listen to the proposition.

If you reject the proposition, you keep the

thousand, and your mouth shut.

FLETCH:

Will this proposition entail my dressing up as Tina Turner?

STANWYK:

(unsmiling, all business)

It is nothing of a sexual nature I assure you.

(Takes a thousand in cash from his pocket)

One thousand, just to listen.I don't see

how you could turn that down Mr...

FLETCH:

Nugent. Ted Nugent.

STANWYK:

(shakes his hand)

Alan Stanwyk.

FLETCH:

Charmed.

9 EXT. BERMAN STREET - BEVERLY HILLS - DAY

---A Jaguar XJ sedan goes up Berman Street, a dead end. Fletch's hand reaches out

---of the passenger window and empties sand out of a sneaker.

10 INT. JAGURE - DAY

FLETCH:

I always liked this part of town.

11 EXT. BERMAN STREET - DAY

---The Jaguar continues on up Berman Street, stopping before massive iron gates

---marked PRIVATE PROPERTY -- NO TRESPASSING -- STANWYK. The gates open

---electronically.

12 EXT. STANWYK HOUSE - DAY

---The jaguar goes up the center of the drive toward a white-pillared mansion. The

---lawns and planting are spectacular.

13 INT. JAGUAR - DAY

---Fletch stares out the window.

FLETCH:

What a coincidence.

---The car stops before the house.

STANWYK:

What?

14 EXT. HOUSE - DAY

---as they get out of the car.

FLETCH:

I came this close...

(holds fingers slightly apart)

...to buying this place

---Stanwyk ignores Fletch and starts toward the house. Fletch follows.

FLETCH:

Then I found out Hopalong Cassidy had

shot himself in the game room. That

just blew it for me.

STANWYK:

Who?

FLETCH:

Hopalong Cassidy. Killed himself here.

Bow and arrow. Strange.

---Stanwyk stops before the front door, stares at Fletch

STANWYK:

What are you, doped up or something?

---Fletch abruptly changes gears, stares at Stanwyk

FLETCH:

I don't work for you yet, assface.

Don't talk to me like that.

STANWYK:

(after a beat)

Come inside.

15 INT. HOUSE - DAY

---Stanwyk and Fletch enter. A Mexican Maid crosses.

STANWYK:

Buenas dias.

MAID:

Buenas dias.

She disappeared.

FLETCH:

I commend you on your Spanish.

---Stanwyk doesn't reply, keeps on walking. He opens a set of double doors to the

---left of the winding staircase, then stands to one side, indicating that Fletch

---should enter.

16 INT. LIBRARY - DAY

---Massive fireplace. Everything built in teak. Fletch enters, and Stanwyk closes

---the door behind them.

FLETCH:

Ahh, the library. Masculine but sensitive.

---Stanwyk wordlessly goes behind the desk

FLETCH:

Really, I love what you've done with the place.

Must have cost you...hundreds.

---Stanwyk turns, looks out a pair of French doors behind his desk, then turns

---back.

STANWYK:

Here's my proposition, Mr. Fletcher.

FLETCH:

I'm all ears.

STANWYK:

I want you to murder me.

17

thru OMITTED

19

20 FLETCH

---Even garrulous Fletch is stopped in his tracks by this remark, uttered in the ---most business-like manner.

21 STANWYK

STANWYK:

Here. On Thursday. I'd like you to shoot me dead.

22 FLETCH

---He just stares, barely breathing.

23 STANWYK

STANWYK:

The reason I ask you to do me this service

is that I am facing a long, painful, and most

certain death. You see, I have bone cancer.

I don't know if you know anything about bone cancer.

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