Get Shorty Page #7

CHILI:

Lovejoy sits behind the wheel, watching the bar across the

street, getting his video camera ready for action . . .

(looks up)

What's he doing? Following a guy?

HARRY:

Read it. It's a grabber.

Chili looks out the window as we see a long black stretch

limo pull up to the curb down on the street . . .

CHILI:

Hey, Harry? I think your investors are here.

EXT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME

As the Bear opens the door for Bo Catlett and Ronnie . . .

INT. HARRY'S OFFICE -- SAME TIME

As Harry moves away from the window.

HARRY:

Jesus . . .

Chili tosses the script on the desk, moves between a pair of

fat red leather chairs.

CHILI:

All right, Harry, make sure the limo guys sit here, not over

on the sofa.

Harry is tugging the string to lower the blinds behind the

desk.

CHILI:

No leave 'em up, we want the light in their eyes. I'll be at

the desk . . . but don't introduce me, let it go, just start

talking. You're gonna be here, behind 'em when they sit

down.

HARRY:

They'll be looking at you. They don't know who you are.

CHILI:

That's right, they're wondering, who's this guy? You don't

tell 'em. Understand, Harry? Do not tell 'em who I am.

Harry glances off as we hear RONNIE SINGING down the hall.

RONNIE (O.S.)

In the year 2525 . . . if man is still alive . . .

HARRY:

So what do I say to them?

CHILI:

You don't say any more'n you have to. You say, 'Well, I'm

glad you a**holes stopped by, so I can set you straight.'

HARRY:

You're kidding, right?

RONNIE (O.S.)

If woman can survive . . .

CHILI:

You tell 'em the movie's been postponed. Say, till next

year, if you want. But don't tell 'em why or what you're

doing. Understand, Harry? You don't tell 'em anything about

Mr. Lovejoy.

And the door opens. Chili sits behind the desk, watching the

two of them come into the office. Ronnie singing . . .

RONNIE:

They may find . . .

He looks about the office . . . at the old photographs . . .

RONNIE:

Harry, what year is it, man? We enter a time warp? I feel

like I'm back in Hollywood of yesteryear.

Harry waves them right into the two cracked red leather

chairs facing the desk. Chili watches as Catlett comes

first. Sitting down, he nods to Chili who ignores him.

HARRY:

Have a seat . . . right over here . . .

Ronnie sits down in the chair and hooks one leg over the

arm, swings it up and down, his motor running on some

chemical. He too stares at Chili.

HARRY:

This is my associate, Chili Palmer, who'll be working with

me.

Harry already forgetting his instructions. Chili can't

believe it. The limo guys nod to Chili and Chili nods back,

trying to catch Harry's eye.

HARRY:

I want to make sure there's no misunderstanding here.

Despite rumors you might have heard, your investment in

Freaks is as sound as the day you signed your participation

agreement.

Ronnie has his face raised to the ceiling.

RONNIE:

I can hear you, but where the f*** are you, man?

BO CATLETT:

(looking at Chili)

What I been wondering is where's he been.

RONNIE:

Yeah, where've you been? We haven't heard from you lately.

Harry comes around to stand at one side of the desk, his

back to the window . . .

HARRY:

I've been off scouting locations. Interviewing actors in New

York.

Chili's gaze moves from Ronnie the fool to Bo Catlett the

dude, the man composed, elbows on the chair arms, his hands

steepled in front of him.

HARRY:

The main thing I want to tell you, the start date for Freaks

is being pushed back a little, a few months.

Ronnie stops bouncing his leg.

RONNIE:

A few months?

HARRY:

Maybe longer. We need prep time.

RONNIE:

Hey, Harry? Bullshit. We have an agreement with you, man.

HARRY:

We're gonna make the picture. I've just got another project

to do first, that's all. One I promised this guy years ago.

Chili shakes his head, he can't believe he's hearing this.

Ronnie sits up straight.

RONNIE:

I want to see your books, Harry. Show me where it is, a two

with five zeroes after it in black and white, man. I want to

see your books and your bank statements.

CHILI:

Hey, Ronnie? Look at me.

Boom. Ronnie looks over. So does Bo Catlett for that matter.

CHILI:

You have a piece of a movie, that's all. You don't have a

piece of Harry. He told you we're doing another movie first.

And that's the way it's gonna be.

RONNIE:

Excuse me. But who the f*** are you?

CHILI:

I'm the one telling you how it is. That's not too hard to

figure out, is it?

Ronnie turns to Bo Catlett, the man not having moved or

changed his expression the last few minutes.

RONNIE:

Cat?

Bo Catlett takes his time, gives it some thought. He looks

at Harry . . .

BO CATLETT:

What's this movie you're doing first?

CHILI:

Harry, let me answer that.

Catlett looks at Chili again.

CHILI:

But first I want to know who I'm talking to. Am I talking to

you, or am I talking to him?

BO CATLETT:

(beat, smiles)

You can talk to me.

CHILI:

That's what I thought. So let me put it this way

Now it's between them. The guy studies Chili, thinks about

whether or not to make a move, when Harry steps in, reaches

over the desk and picks up a script . . .

HARRY:

This is the project, Mr. Lovejoy. I'm not trying to pull

anything on you guys. This is it, right here.

Chili looks at Harry, wonders if there's a way to shut him

up without punching him in the mouth.

RONNIE:

Mr. Loveboy? What is it, Harry, a porno flick?

He reaches for the script. Harry backs away, holds the

script to his chest. Bo Catlett notices this.

HARRY:

It's nothing. It's fluff. Nothing you'd be interested in.

Bo Catlett eyes him a beat, then pushes out of his chair . .

.

BO CATLETT:

Harry, you think we go to see your movies? I've seen better

film on teeth. Makes no difference to me which one our

money's in. So how 'bout you take our twenty points out of

Freaks and put 'em in this other one, Mr. Loverboy.

HARRY:

I can't do it.

BO CATLETT:

You positive about that?

HARRY:

It's a different kind of deal.

Bo Catlett nods, gets up.

BO CATLETT:

Okay. Then be good enough to hand us our money back, or you

think about us coming in on this new one.

RONNIE:

By Friday, man, or you're f***in' dead as disco.

Ronnie opens his coat so that Harry can see a gun tucked in

his belt . . .

RONNIE:

You hear me?

Bo Catlett gives Ronnie a look.

BO CATLETT:

Take your time, Harry.

(closes Ronnie's jacket)

We're not animals. Are we, Ronnie?

Bo Catlett glances once more at Chili then follows Ronnie

out the door. Harry stares at the door a moment, senses

Chili staring at him . . .

HARRY:

What?

CHILI:

I don't know, maybe I wasn't clear. But I thought . . . I

told you to keep your mouth shut.

HARRY:

I had to tell 'em something.

CHILI:

Never say anything unless you have to.

Chili shakes his head as Harry sits down in one of the

chairs, fumbles for his cigarettes.

CHILI:

You tell me you want these guys off your back. Next thing I

know, you're saying yeah, maybe they can have a piece of Mr.

Lovejoy. I couldn't believe my f***in' ears.

HARRY:

I said I'd think about it. What does that mean? In this

town, nothing.

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