Meet Joe Black Page #15

The Board falls silent. Sloane, a peer of Parrish's,

fidgets. Drew milks the moment.

DREW (cont'D)

It's no surprise if I suggest to you

that the Bill Parrish we know is not

the Bill Parrish you saw yesterday.

You heard that speech -- some strange

emotional rationale to buttress a

knee-jerk rejection of a legitimate

offer. Does it not strike you that

something is possibly affecting this

man's judgement? More specifically

-- his judgement to make a critical

business decision?

Silence, the Board clocking Drew's argument.

DREW (cont'D)

It's not pleasant to say the follow-

ing, but I would be remiss, in this

crisis, if I did not. When we pre-

sent Bill with the improved Bontecou

offer, and if he refuses to let us

consider it -- once more makes an

adamant or emotional rejection -- we

will have no choice but to seek an

alternative.

SLOANE:

And what would that be?

DREW:

Bill's birthday is the day after

tomorrow. There is a provisory by-

law in our charter. Per the discre-

tion of the Board, Corporate off-

icers can be retired at age sixty-

five.

SLOANE:

You're taking this too far, Drew.

DREW:

Am I not obligated to?

Drew leans over to Felicia, speaks quietly and she leaves

the room.

DREW (cont'd)

How did this all come about? Crisis

-- Bill Parrish, crisis -- his com-

pany, crisis for us. It came about

with the arrival on the scene of --

Mr. Joe Black. Mr. Joe who? Joe

Black. He attends our Board meet-

int, he sleeps at Bill's house, re-

sides in his office. Never leaves

his side. And, in my opinion, is

always in his ear. Telling him what

to do and Bill is listening. Who is

Joe Black? What is his relationship

to Bill Parrish? And most important,

what is behind his influence on our

Chairman?

SLOANE:

You're building this thing up too

much, Drew. He's had advisors be-

fore. Nobody tells Bill what to do.

The door opens and Felicia enters followed by Quince, sur-

prised at seeing a convened Board, but still he is all smiles.

DREW:

Thank you for coming.

SLOANE:

Hello, Quince.

QUINCE:

Hi, Ed, hi folks, I didn't know

everybody was going to be here, what

a nice surprise. What's the big

confab?

SLOANE:

(acidly)

This is a secret meeting.

DREW:

(to Quince)

I hope you'll respect its nature --

What we're trying to do here is

gather our thoughts -- in light of

Bill's rejection of Bontecou's offer

-- and make an appropriate presenta-

tion to him as to how we think the

company might proceed. Won't you

share with our Board the information

you gave me last night?

Quince hesitates, then realizes what Drew has on his mind.

He nods confidently to Drew, then turns importantly to the

Board.

QUINCE:

Well, I'm happy to tell you I've got

good news. As I was telling Drew,

I've been making a little hay while

the Bontecou sun was shining -- two,

possibly three new and boiling hot

prospects for merger.

DREW:

How did Bill react to the leads

you've developed?

QUINCE:

He was interested.

DREW:

(prompting)

-- But he was concerned about the

timing?

QUINCE:

The timing -- yes. He says it's up

to Joe.

DREW:

'It's up to Joe'?

QUINCE:

That's what he said.

Quince, having dispensed his information, looks proudly

around at the Board members. They are stunned, Sloane in

shock. Drew is absolutely still, letting Quince's words

sink in.

INT. DINING ROOM, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT

Parrish, Joe, Susan, Allison and Quince are seated at the

table, dessert plates in front of them, coffee cups beside.

Allison and Susan's eyes are on Parrish, looking for some

clue as to why has he gathered the family together yet

again. Parrish is somewhat within himself, but he peeks

over his demi-tasse cup at Joe, Parrish aware of Joe's

heightened interest in Susan, and Susan's reciprocation.

Coyle enters carrying two imposing stemmed silver trays with

cakes on them, Luisa follows with one other. They set them

down in front of Parrish.

PARRISH:

What is this?

ALLISON:

Annie made them.

PARRISH:

Who's Annie?

ALLISON:

From La Rosette, only the greatest

pastry chef in America.

(pointing)

This is orange, from real Seville

oranges. Lemon, on a mille-feuille

crust, a little on the fanciful.

And a while, nothing like a good old

white cake, vanilla, with Angel food

but some maroons shavings thrown in.

PARRISH:

I don't like cake.

ALLISON:

It's for the party, Dad --

PARRISH:

Oh, the goddam party --

ALLISON:

'Goddam party'!

Allison bursts into tears.

ALLISON (cont'd)

(to Quince)

Did you hear that?

Quince quickly slashes a piece, takes a huge bite.

QUINCE:

This is great, honey. The orange.

Has it got a little vodka in it?

Like that Finnish stuff, orange

vodka --

(to Parrish)

Put your lips around this one, Bill.

It's out of this world.

PARRISH:

No thank you, Quince.

(to Allison)

I'm sorry, honey. I'm no good at

this. Why don't you choose whatever

cake you like?

ALLISON:

I knew you were going to say that.

Tito Puente. The old platoon. Now

the cake. You just don't care. Why

did I do this? I should have my head

examined. I'm trying to throw the

party for the century for my father --

and you know what -- he doesn't give

a sh*t.

She bursts into tears all over again.

QUINCE:

But he does give a sh*t. Don't you,

Bill?

PARRISH:

Yeah, I give a sh*t.

QUINCE:

See. There. What'd I tell you?

Joe watches as Quince dabs at Allison's tears with a napkin.

QUINCE (cont'd)

Feel better?

ALLISON:

Yeah, but --

QUINCE:

But what?

ALLISON:

What will I tell Annie?

Parrish forks a bit of a cake.

PARRISH:

This one.

QUINCE:

The vodka. What'd I tell you?

Quince puts a reassuring arm around Allison, she seems to

relax now, Joe has been a keen observer of what has trans-

pired between husband and wife, between man and woman, a

sense that he has taken in the virtue of such a relation-

ship.

INT. SALON, PARRISH TOWNHOUSE - NIGHT

After dinner, Parrish, Allison and Susan are gathered to-

gether. At the bar on the other side of the room, Joe

watches as Quince pours himself a stiff hooker of brandy.

JOE:

(to Quince)

Cirrhosis of the liver is the fifth

leading killer of adult Western

males.

QUINCE:

I didn't know that.

JOE:

On the other hand, Winston Churchill

drank a bottle of cognac a day and

lived until he was ninety-one.

After a moment.

QUINCE:

You're an original, Joe. A little

hard to figure, maybe...

JOE:

And you're a nice man, Quince.

QUINCE:

Thanks.

JOE:

You're welcome.

ANOTHER ANGLE:

Drew appears unannounced in the doorway, exchanges a tense

glance with Susan, then heads straight for Parrish who seems

surprised to see him.

DREW:

(to Parrish)

Sorry to intrude, Bill, but we've

got a bit of a crisis downtown --

it's not something we could talk

about on the phone.

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