Game 6 Page #4

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Nicky shifts his gaze. He sees Elliot Litvak slinking across

the street, looking faintly unclean and shows a trace of a

smile. He watches Elliot enter the lobby of the Chemical

Bank.

INT. BANK

Elliot is at a cash machine, making an elaborate transaction.

Nicky appears, approaching the adjacent machine. Elliot sees

him.

ELLIOT:

Nicky. I was thinking about you. I

went to the preview last night.

NICKY:

I don't want to hear about it.

Nicky attends to his own transaction.

ELLIOT:

(whispering)

A lovely piece of theater. Small

but important.

NICKY:

Shut up, Elliot.

ELLIOT:

Quietly effective.

Nicky takes his cash and begins to move away.

We don't appreciate what they've

built for us. We're artists who are

too dumb to see that this is the

peak moment of Western culture.

NICKY:

You're an artist. I'm a craftsman.

ELLIOT:

Press a button and they give us

money.

NICKY:

Ride with me. We need a haircut.

INT. TAXI

Stalled between Park and Madison. The driver has opened the

door and is standing just outside the cab, trying to

determine the cause of delay.

ELLIOT:

(whispering)

How is Lillian? I haven't seen her.

NICKY:

She wants a divorce.

ELLIOT:

Don't talk like that.

NICKY:

It's over, finished and done with.

ELLIOT:

That sounds so final. But are we

really surprised?

NICKY:

I'm completely stunned. I don't

want this to happen.

ELLIOT:

But didn't we know it would happen?

NICKY:

Don't needle me, Elliot. Tell me

how bad you feel. We're suppose to

feel bad together. This is what

friends do.

ELLIOT:

(whispering)

Joanna Bourne. So rich and crisp.

This woman lets you touch her body?

You put your hands on her personal

parts?

Nicky hits Elliot -- a token blow to the arm. Elliot thinks

about it, then hits back.

They swat each other, half kiddingly, each of them leaning

away from the other to prevent being hit in the face.

EXT. THE STREET

A whitish brown mist is building the west. There is a sense

of scurrying people.

INT. TAXI

The driver re-enters.

DRIVER:

We must abandon.

NICKY:

What do you mean, we must abandon?

DRIVER:

Ruptured steam pipe.

ELLIOT:

Ruptured steam pipe.

DRIVER:

Asbestos lining. Do not inhale.

NICKY:

We must abandon.

DRIVER:

Contaminated substance. Very

dangerous. Shooting mud.

NICKY:

Do not inhale.

ELLIOT:

We must abandon.

DRIVER:

Ruptured steam pipe.

NICKY:

Very dangerous.

ELLIOT:

Asbestos lining.

NICKY:

We must abandon.

ELLIOT:

Do not inhale.

Driver's name plate --

BODENHEIM:

YEHOSHAFAT:

Nicky pays him.

EXT. THE STREET

The driver flees eastward. Nicky and Elliot run across

Madison Avenue. A snowstorm of asbestos is shooting out of a

man hole cover west of Fifth Avenue, reducing visibility to

near zero. Cars and people are white shadows.

The two men, with collars raised and hands over heads hurry

into a restaurant on 47th Street between Madison and Fifth.

INT. RESTAURANT - LATER

A small narrow room. Handsome wall paintings -- a Tuscan hill

town. Very slow day.

Nicky and Elliot sitting with a carafe of wine, a bottle of

mineral water and some bread sticks. Glancing at menus

intermittently.

NICKY:

I'm trying to think. When did you

start looking so terrible? You look

awful.

ELLIOT:

I can tell you the year, the day,

the night, the minute.

NICKY:

You used to love life. You don't

exude this any more.

ELLIOT:

What do I exude?

NICKY:

Suffering. You exude a person who

sits in a small dark apartment

eating soft white bread.

ELLIOT:

Tonight you find out what it means

to suffer.

NICKY:

Tonight. What's tonight?

ELLIOT:

Sh*t. They don't have any carrot

soup.

NICKY:

You mean because What's-His-Name.

ELLIOT:

You will suffer because he is in

the theater. And you will suffer a

thousandfold when his review

appears.

NICKY:

It's just a review.

ELLIOT:

It is just a review. Do not inhale.

Very dangerous.

NICKY:

What's the fuss? I don't get it.

ELLIOT:

That's what I said eighteen months

ago.

NICKY:

What happened eighteen months ago?

ELLIOT:

Before his Broadway days. He

reviewed the one-act I did at the

Fulton Fish Market. We did this

play at four AM, outdoors in the

rain. One performance. For the fish

handlers.

NICKY:

And he was there?

ELLIOT:

Steven Schwimmer. I memorized every

word of this review.

NICKY:

That's awful.

ELLIOT:

I recite it to myself with

masochistic relish.

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