Get Shorty Page #12

KAREN:

You were supposed to wait for me with Harry at the

restaurant.

Chili points to a star on the map . . .

CHILI:

See, here it is . . . Martin Weir's house . . . right across

the steet from George Hamilton.

VOICE:

Chili, Jesus!

They both look to the front door where a tall, skinny WOMAN

with wild, jet black hair stands.

WOMAN:

It is you . . .

She comes bounding down the steps, runs over and gives him a

hug . . . Karen can't believe what she sees.

CHILI:

Nicole?

WOMAN:

It's Nicki now. I don't believe this.

CHILI:

Me neither.

(to Karen)

We know each other.

Karen smiles

'How 'bout that.' Then looks at Nicki.

KAREN:

Hello, Nicki.

NICKI:

Karen. Sh*t. I didn't see you there. How are you?

Karen starts to answer, but Nicki's already hustling Chili

inside . . .

INT. MARTIN WEIR'S HOUSE -- DAY

White everything. Way off in the b.g., a view on to the huge

backyard. A pool man cleans the pool. A gardener blows the

leaves.

Martin's extensive photography collection lines the walls.

Chili steps inside, checks some of them out

most of the photographs are of Martin.

NICKI:

Martin will be out in a minute.

(to Karen)

Chili was the only one at Momo's didn't hit on me.

KAREN:

What a gentleman.

NICKI:

You like my hair?

(reaches up, touches it)

Black like this?

CHILI:

It's nice. Especially under your arms.

Somehow this makes Karen feel better.

NICKI:

Martin won't let me shave. I guess I fill some need. Brings

him back to the sixties or something.

Karen turns as we hear a TOILET FLUSH somewhere o.s.

NICKI:

(looks o.s.)

Speak of the devil . . .

Chili follows her gaze and we see . . .

MARTIN:

as he comes down the stairs, checking the front of his

trousers. He and Karen spot each other. Both look

uncomfortable for a fraction of a second, then Martin

hurries over to her . . .

MARTIN:

Karen. Wow. Look at you . . .

KAREN:

Hello, Martin.

He hugs her and hangs on, leaving Nicki and Chili standing

there like idiots.

MARTIN:

Mmmmm. You smell terrific.

(to Nicki)

She always smelled so good.

NICKI:

(thrilled)

Neat.

(then)

Martin, this is Chili Palmer.

MARTIN:

Chili is it?

CHILI:

Yesh, a pleasure, Martin.

NICKI:

Chili's a gangster. Ran a club I used to play at for another

gangster back in Miami. How is Momo these days anyway?

CHILI:

Dead.

Karen fights a smile. Nicki nods solemnly . . .

NICKI:

Bummer.

(then)

Well, I'll let you all get to your movie talk. Chili, make

sure you say good-bye before you leave.

CUT TO:

A PORTRAIT OF MARTIN WEIR

Done in cracked oils, the whole bit.

PULL BACK TO REVEAL

MARTIN'S LIVING ROOM

Martin, Karen and Chili all sit on white couches. Martin is

checking out Karen, nodding . . .

MARTIN:

I'm sitting here, I'm looking at you and I'm having these

flashes. You know, flashbacks, of memories.

(touches her hair)

Of us.

KAREN:

Really.

MARTIN:

Yeah and I'm wondering, how did it go wrong? How did it all

. . . slip away?

KAREN:

'It' didn't slip away, Martin, you did . . . when you went

off to f*** Nicki in the middle of my birthday party.

Martin brings his hand back, nods, lost in thought . . .

MARTIN:

Yeah. That was a good party.

CHILI:

You know, Marty, you were good in The Cyclone.

MARTIN:

Martin. It was a beautiful role. All I had to do was find

the character's center, the stem I'd used to wind him up and

he'd play, man, he'd play.

Karen looks like she wants to throw up.

CHILI:

Well, you had it down cold. Watching you in the movie, if I

didn't know better I'd have to believe you were a made guy

and not acting. Even the fink part. I never met a fink and I

hope to God I never do, but how you did it must be the way

finks act.

MARTIN:

A few weeks before shooting, I went back to Bensonhurst,

just to listen to you guys. See, I'm Italian, but I grew up

in Tarzana. So I wanted to pick up your rhythms of speech.

CHILI:

We talk different?

MARTIN:

It's more like your attitude. Your tone, your speech

patterns demonstrate a certain confidence in yourselves, in

your opinions, your indifference to conventional views.

CHILI:

You mean like we don't give a sh*t.

MARTIN:

Yeah. Kinda. Anyway, once I have the authentic sounds of

speech, the rhythms, man, the patois, I can actually begin

to think the way those guys do, get inside their heads.

Chili exchanges a look with Karen who sits back now. Ready

to give up.

CHILI:

Okay, I'm one of those guys you mentioned. I'm actually one

of 'em. What am I thinking?

Martin looks at Chili . . .

MARTIN:

Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying an actual metamorphosis

takes place. That wouldn't be acting.

Karen looks at Martin, shakes her head.

CHILI:

So you don't know what I'm thinking.

MARTIN:

No, I don't. Though I have to say I'm curious.

CHILI:

So you want to know.

MARTIN:

If you'd like to tell me, yeah.

CHILI:

I'm thinking of a movie.

MARTIN:

One of mine?

CHILI:

One we're producing.

MARTIN:

With what? Wiseguy money?

Martin cracks himself up. Karen and Chili crack up with him,

Karen leaning into Chili . . .

KAREN:

Maybe this was a bad idea.

But Chili keeps looking at Martin.

CHILI:

Martin, I'm not connected to those people anymore. Not since

I walked out of a loan-shark Operation in Miami.

MARTIN:

What happened? The pressure got to you?

CHILI:

Pressure? I'm the one applied the pressure.

Chili sits back. Karen is starting to enjoy Chili's handling

of Martin . . .

CHILI:

You're an actor, you like to pretend. Imagine you're the

shylock. A guy owes you fifteen grand and he skips, leaves

town. What do you do?

Chili watches as the movie star hunches over, narrows his

shoulders. For a few moments he holds his hands together in

front of him, getting a shifty look in his eyes. Karen

shakes her head . . .

KAREN:

Oh, for Christ's sake --

MARTIN:

I know. I'm doing Shylock instead of a shylock. Okay, what's

my motivation? The acquisition of money. To collect. Inflict

pain if I have to.

Karen watches as Martin stares at Chili, his expression

gradually becoming deadpan, sleepy . . .

MARTIN:

Guy owes me fifteen large and takes off, I go after him. The

f*** you think I do?

CHILI:

Martin, look at me.

MARTIN:

I'm looking at you.

So is Karen, for that matter.

CHILI:

No, I want you to look at me the way I'm looking at you. Put

it in your eyes, 'You're mine, a**hole,' without saying it.

MARTIN:

Like this?

CHILI:

What you're telling me, you're tired? You wanna go to bed?

MARTIN:

Wait. How about this?

CHILI:

Now you're squinting like you need glasses.

Karen looks away now, fighting a smile.

CHILI:

Look at me. I'm thinking, You're mine. I f***in' own you.

What I'm not doing is feeling anything about it one way or

the other. You understand? You're not a person to me, you're

a name in my collection book, a guy owes me money, that's

all.

Martin nods, gives Chili a nice dead-eyed look. Karen is

thoroughly enjoying Chili's manipulation of Martin.

MARTIN:

How about this?

CHILI:

That's not bad.

MARTIN:

That's what I think of you, a**hole. Nothing.

CHILI:

I believe it.

MARTIN:

I turn it on when I confront the guy.

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