Flight Page #9

WHIP closes his eyes and exhales. He now stares at the foot

of the bed for a long, long moment. WHIP squeezes his eyes

shut tight -- holding back tears. Then quietly, as if

whispering a prayer...

WHIP (CONT’D)

Goddamn it...

INT. HOSPITAL -- ELEVATOR DOORS -- MORNING

The Stones “Sympathy for the Devil” kicks up as we wait...

The doors split open and HARLING MAYS steps out. HARLING has

a pony tail and a goatee and is probably wearing a Tommy

Bahama button down shirt.

We follow HARLING as he strides down the hall. With ear buds

in, HARLING points a Sanyo pistol-shaped cam corder at the

ATTENDING NURSE at the nurses’ station, recording her...

HARLING MAYS:

I’m on the list baby girl. Check

the list for Mr. Mays. Harling.

The Stones continue to wail as Harling strolls on, adjusting

the duffel bag he has slung over his shoulder.

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- MOMENTS LATER

HARLING stands in the doorway looking in. He sees...

The MORNING NURSE is helping WHIP to stand. HARLING points

his camcorder at WHIP and the NURSE.

HARLING MAYS (O.C.)

If this is gonna turn into a sponge

bath, I’ll come back.

NURSE:

Sir-

HARLING immediately goes to WHIP and supports him.

48.

WHIP:

It’s okay, Harling.

HARLING MAYS:

That’s right honey, I’m on the

list. Harling Mays. Some say they

Harling knew me.

HARLING boxes her out. She steps away.

HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)

Honey can you hustle us a couple of

daiquiris and a cocktail weenie?

On second thought just bring the

booze. I brought my own weenie.

No reaction as the NURSE collects the trash and towels.

HARLING focuses his camcorder on the NURSE and leaves WHIP in

an unsteady stance. HARLING films her and comments...

HARLING MAYS (CONT’D)

She’s offended, and she should be.

I’m a pig. And I hate me. That’s

what we have in common Nurse

Ratched...we both hate me.

And she’s gone. HARLING turns to WHIP.

HARLING MAYS (CONT’D)

Whip? What the f*** my man?

They’re sayin’, “Sweet Jesus, what

a f***in’ stud that pilot is.”

You’re a hero, no sh*t. You will

never pay for another drink in this

life time. There is crazy news

people all over, look at this sh*t-

HARLING helps WHIP to the window...

EXT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- PARKING LOT -- DAY

From WHIP’s window we can see a slew of news vans with signal

towers as well as reporters milling about -- a small zoo.

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM -- DAY

HARLING and WHIP stare for a moment at the circus below.

WHIP doesn’t last long and slowly returns to the bed as

HARLING continues to gawk.

49.

HARLING MAYS:

Classic hero worship, you’re a rock

star man. You gotta see the video

I’ve got -- I’m making a doc about

you, well us, y’know?

HARLING pulls an iPad out of his knapsack and flips it open.

He lets a collection of videos run...

HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)

This is outside your condo...

On HARLING’s iPad we see footage of PRESS swarming outside

WHIP’s condo. We also see the crash scene footage.

HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)

Look that’s me, and that‘s Mark

Mellon...you know that douchey

talking haircut from local Atlanta

channel 3? I said a few words.

Just straight talk, y’know?

WHIP’s hands shake as he grabs the bed frame. HARLING takes

notice and stashes the iPad...

HARLING MAYS (CONT’D)

You okay Captain Whitaker? Easy...

HARLING helps him get settled. We see the beads of sweat on

WHIP’s lip and forehead.

WHIP:

The meds they’re giving me are

f***ing me up -- I’m all shaky and

dried out. I can’t sleep good.

HARLING immediately picks up the small paper cup that holds

WHIP’s pain meds. He fishes out the two pills and stares at

them. HARLING shakes his head.

HARLING MAYS:

Aprazolam? That’s generic Xanax and

this Hydrocodone is generic

Vicodin. It’s sh*t, prolly

Canadian.

HARLING casually tosses the pills down his gullet and

expertly swallows them without water. He grabs WHIP’s

medical chart and scours it as he prattles on...

HARLING MAYS (CONT'D)

We want the premium stuff. Blue

label...not the f***ing well sh*t.

Where’s the dihydromorphinone?

50.

Or just some f***ing Palladone

would suffice. What is this?

F***ing amateur hour over here?

Get that goddamned doctor in here.

You just saved a 100 people from

death, they should get your f***in’

meds right.

(calls to the door)

YO! ROOM SERVICE!

WHIP:

Listen Harling, leave it alone.

(Harling chills)

So you got my message and decided

not to call me back? Did you bring

me smokes?

HARLING MAYS:

I decided to come by instead. And

yes I got your f***ing message and

yes I brought you smokes.

HARLING hands WHIP a pack of smokes from his pocket. He also

pulls out a carton of smokes from his backpack.

HARLING MAYS (CONT’D)

Here is a fresh carton, enjoy. You

f***ing earned it -- you smoke your

nuts off, champion. If I were you

I’d fire up right here in the God

damn room. F***’em, you’re

immortal, you’re a f***ing God man.

WHIP:

Harling...

WHIP motions with his hands to “calm down.”

HARLING MAYS:

Sorry Whip. It’s just...this is

big time, man. You’re a hero in a

time when we really need heroes.

WHIP:

Shut the f*** up, Harling...Six

people died.

HARLING MAYS:

96 people lived! When are you

gonna take yes for an answer? Pick

up the phone, man. F***.

HARLING pulls something from his vest pocket and puts it in

WHIP’S hand. WHIP looks at it and back at HARLING.

51.

HARLING MAYS (CONT’D)

Here’s a pint of Smirnoff and a few

Red Bulls. You know what I’m

sayin’? I know my customer.

HARLING continues to pull items from the bag.

WHIP:

Harling, take the vodka with you.

HARLING freezes his frenzied energy with this odd command.

HARLING MAYS:

What?! Take the vodka? Dude, are

you insane? I’m gonna just tuck it

in the bottom of your-

WHIP:

Take the f***ing vodka!

HARLING hears him this time and raises his hand and nods,

putting the VODKA back in his own duffel. HARLING tosses a

tee shirt, sweat pants and flip-flops on the bed, then...

HARLING MAYS:

Okay man. Check it out.

HARLING holds up a silk Japanese Happi Coat, with elaborate

stitching depicting colorful birds flying around Mt. Fuji.

WHIP:

Look, I’m tired man.

HARLING MAYS:

I’m out. You rest up.

WHIP:

You gotta come and get me,

tomorrow.

WHIP pulls his keys from the bag that CHARLIE gave him.

WHIP (CONT'D)

Here are my keys. Go to the condo

and bring me some nice clothes I

can wear, my phone charger and grab

the veal outta my fridge. It’s

marked.

HARLING MAYS:

The veal?

52.

WHIP:

Yeah, the veal that’s in my

freezer.

HARLING MAYS:

Done and done. What time you need

me here?

WHIP:

Tomorrow. I’ll call you.

HARLING MAYS:

Send the mayday and you’re outta

here in 7 minutes.

(a smile)

I got you a few stroke mags too.

I’ve been in hospitals. I know

what you need. JUGS, HOT MILFS in

heat. ASSMASTERS. You should just

stroke it all day. You’re a hero --

know what I’m saying? If I was in

here I’d be jerkin’ it all day

long. See, there’s a smile.

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