Life as a House Page #7

STEVEN:

Mother of God! Not my house!

George stops for a second to focus on Steven, but Steven is

smart enough to run. George continues on with the business

of disassembling his work.

VOICE:

Oh, please, please, no!

The plea is instantly followed by a pathetic low whine.

George works up a sweat as he whacks model after model;

portions of plastic walls or window splatter the office as

though bombed in war. Bryan Burke's secretary inches as

close as she dares.

SECRETARY:

Uh...Mr. Burke would like a word with

you, George.

George lowers his stick as he faces her.

GEORGE:

Oh...okay.

SECRETARY:

In his office. When you're able.

GEORGE:

Thank you.

With that, George finishes what he began only minutes prior:

the complete and utter destruction of every model displayed

on every shelf in the office, save one. Workers huddle

together, collectively moaning and moving en mass from the

mayhem. George picks up the sole surviving model in his arms

and cradles it carefully as he walks into Bryan Burke's

office.

INT. BRYAN BURKE'S OFFICE - MORNING

Bryan cowers behind his desk as George enters with his model

in one hand and the long wooden stick in the other.

GEORGE:

I'll take this one, if that's okay?

It takes Bryan a few aborted attempts to answer before he

simply nods.

GEORGE (CONT'D)

Thank you for going out on a limb and

allowing me one.

Bryan nods again, then quivers as George steps forward, leans

the stick against the desk and extends his hand.

GEORGE (CONT'D)

You're a great architect and a miserable

human being.

Bryan winces as he extends his hand. They shake hands and

George grabs hold of the stick again.

BRYAN:

Thank you.

George walks around the desk and bashes in a model hidden on

the floor, one that Bryan had obviously wanted to save.

BRYAN (CONT'D)

Oh, f***!

George drops the wooden spool and walks out of the office as

Bryan garners the courage to stand.

BRYAN (CONT'D)

You're not even an architect and you're a

miserable human being.

George turns around only long enough to answer.

GEORGE:

You're right. You win.

George closes the door behind him. Bryan stares down at the

remains of the model; he gets down on his knees and carefully

gathers up the pieces.

EXT. DOWNTOWN LOS ANGELES - MORNING

George is sweating as he walks with his box of personal items

under one arm and the model under the other. Dizzy, he stops

for a moment and tires to orient himself, glancing one way,

then the other before staggering back and pressing himself

against the building for support. Sweat beads and drops from

his nose and chin as the song, 'ACROSS THE UNIVERSE' begins

by The Beatles. George sets the box down but clings tightly

to the model as he closes his eyes.

'Pools of sorrow, waves of joy are drifting through my open

mind, possessing them, caressing me...'

George drops face first to the cement, crushing the model

beneath him.

MONTAGE AS THE SONG CONTINUES

George is probed and poked by doctor after doctor. An

ultrasound test followed by a CT scan, followed by a MRI

results in more tests.

A flexible tube is slid down George's throat as dye is shot

into his body. 'Sounds of laughter, shades of life are

ringing through my open view, inciting them, inviting me...'

A long blunt needle is shoved into George's side for a biopsy

of his pancreas. X-rays are lit and highlighted as doctors

ponder the specks, the disease.

Finally, George is opened up; nearly bloodless slice through

skin, muscle and fat reveals death. 'Limitless undying love,

which shines around me like a million suns, which calls me on

and on across the universe...'

George is wheeled down a long hall to the critical care unit.

'Nothing's going to change my world, nothing's gonna change

my world...'

INT. HOSPITAL ROOM - EVENING

George tries to sit up, but falls back as he closes his eyes,

opens his eyes, closes his eyes.

FEMALE VOICE (O.S.)

That took care of the pain?

George opens his eyes again as an attractive NURSE enters

with a tray of food.

GEORGE:

I could kiss you.

The nurse smiles as she lifts the cover off the dinner.

GEORGE (CONT'D)

No food. I'm painless.

She raises George's bed.

GEORGE (CONT'D)

What would you do if you had three or

four months to live?

The nurse glances over at the other patient in the room,

who's sleeping, before answering in a soft voice.

NURSE:

I'd eat a lot of red meat.

GEORGE:

Good for you.

The nurse smiles as she sits down beside the bed. She fills

a spoon with corn and aims it for George's mouth; he accepts

the good will, chews and swallows.

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