Frost\Nixon Page #12

Bye-bye.

Goodbye, Mr. President.

Goodbye.

Oh, God! I almost forgot. I...

I brought you a present,

those shoes you admired.

I brought you a pair.

Well, jeez. Thank you.

I'm touched. Safe trip, now.

Oh! Say, David, you think I could speak

to you, privately, just for a minute?

Do you know those parties of yours?

The ones that I read

about in all the papers?

Do you actually enjoy those?

Of course.

You got no idea how

fortunate that makes you.

You know? Liking

people, and being liked.

Having that facility,

that lightness, that charm.

I don't have it. I never did.

It kind of makes you

wonder why I chose a life

that hinged on being liked.

I'm better suited to a life of thought,

debate, intellectual discipline.

Maybe we got it wrong.

Maybe you should have been a politician

and I the rigorous interviewer.

Maybe.

David.

Did I really call you that night?

Yes.

Did we discuss anything important?

Cheeseburgers.

Cheeseburgers?

Goodbye, sir.

Well, New York, London and Sydney

welcomed David back with open arms,

as did his friends and investors,

who've made a fortune

from these interviews.

He got back all of his shows.

He even got back his table at Sardi's.

As for Richard Nixon,

well, he certainly never achieved

the rehabilitation he

so desperately craved.

His most lasting legacy

is that today any political wrongdoing

is immediately given the suffix "gate."

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