My Best Friend's Wedding Page #4

KIMMY:

The twin part. I like to remain

impartial in my contempt.

Sees the off-ramp, and SLICES across FOUR LANES of speeding bullets

in a heart-stopping nanosecond. This kid could drive for Penske.

Julianne has to pound her chest to get her heart started. Looks

back to see if Michael fell out...

... he is absurdly wind-blown. Gives her a beautiful grinning

thumbs-up. Loves this stuff.

KIMMY:

This means I have four days

to make you my new best friend...

Brings Julianne's eyes back...

KIMMY:

And since I already know everything

about you. Including intimate

facts I'm mortified to have heard,

but too envious to forget. It's

time for you to learn about me...

Easing off the freeway. She meets Julianne's glance...

KIMMY:

Force yourself. To get personal.

JULIANNE (smiles)

Sounds like a plan.

INT. DRESS SHOP, NORTH MICHIGAN AVENUE - MORNING

The place is stunning. High-ceiling, soft light, large rococo

mirrors, Louis Quatorze sofas and chairs. Michael wanders rest-

lessly, fish out of water among designer displays and stylish

female patrons.

Takes a look at his watch.

INT. DRESSING ROOM - MORNING

A period sitting room, ringed with mirrors along its tapestried

walls. Kimmy sits on a Louis Treize loveseat next to a stack of

costly gowns. Watching with an expertise beyond her years, as...

... Julianne stands on a platform. A seamstress fitting her into a

sleek pale daffodil-colored gown. There are pins everywhere, as

the seamstress struggles toward a perfect fit. Continuously

looking to Kim for approval.

KIMMY:

If you'd rather the lilac...

Julianne shakes her head. This one is beautiful.

JULIANNE:

I thought bridesmaids had to wear

the same dress.

KIMMY:

Not you. You won't be comfortable

unless you're distinctive.

Julianne glances over.

JULIANNE:

What else did he tell you...

KIMMY:

... you hate weddings, you never go.

Oh. Well, yeah.

KIMMY:

You're not up for anything

conventional, or popularly

assumed to be female priorities.

Including marriage. Or romance.

Or even...

And she stops. Not wanting to offend.

JULIANNE (quietly)

... not even love.

The look holds. The seamstress keeps working, as if she's deaf.

JULIANNE:

That's why Michael and I were

the wrong fit. Right from the

start.

KIMMY:

He said that, too.

She stands up. Walks to the platform. Smooths her hand over the

fabric down Julianne's back, along her hips. Communicating to the

seamstress with her irritated expression.

KIMMY:

Well, I thought I was like you.

And proud to be. Until I met

rumpled, smelly old Michael...

Pins start to come out. Kimmy points, these, too!

KIMMY:

And then I found I was just a

sentimental schmuck. Like all

those flighty nitwits I'd always

pitied.

She leans forward. So they can look at each other.

KIMMY:

Funny world, huh?

Julianne swallows. It is that.

JULIANNE:

I need a smoke.

And before anyone can breathe, she steps OFF the platform RIPPING

the living sh*t out of the gown, right down the side. The seam-

stress' eyes FLASH OPEN in abject horror. Julianne, a deer in

headlights, looks quickly around at the evidence of her screw-up in

six different mirrors.

Kimberly just steps to her, fingers the tear...

KIMMY:

It's mostly the seam. Let's

get this to Carlos.

And UNZIPS Julianne down the back. In her rush to step out,

Julianne STUMBLES, but her arms are pinned by the pulled-down dress

and she just...

... TOPPLES like a felled oak, THUDDING on her face, the gown

RIPPING some more, the seamstress SCREAMING like an idiot.

Then. Silence. Julianne looking up helplessly, a trussed hog,

bound in her dress.

KIMMY (firm)

Just. Don't. Move.

Like you talk to a three-year-old. Deftly, Kimmy pulls the

dress free, leaving Julianne in her underwear. Signals to the

seamstress, let's go.

JULIANNE:

Don't you have to be somewh...

KIMMY:

... just my bridal shower. And

Michael has to meet our dads and

the groomsmen at Comiskey for a

one-thirty game.

Opens the door...

KIMMY:

Other than that...

Closed SOLID. Gone.

INT. DRESSING ROOM - LATER

Julianne sits on the loveseat in her bra and panties, lighting one

cigarette from the butt of another. Suddenly, she hears...

... an ARGUMENT outside the door. Strains to listen. It does sound

like Michael and Kim. We can't make out the words. She jumps up,

dashes for the door, STUBBING her toe on the platform, SH*T!, falls

heavily AGAINST the door with a THUD that makes her wince, and...

... the argument stops. Damn. She opens the door a crack. Sees

nothing. Opens it wider to reveal...

... a teenaged BOY looking right at her. He sends a true sh*t-

eating grin and she SLAMS the door hard enough to RATTLE walls.

She PACES furiously, helplessly, arms around her half-naked self,

until...

... soft knock. The door opens a crack, and her daffodil gown

comes through it.

JULIANNE:

Come in, and shut the...

Stops. Because it's Michael who has entered. With the dress.

JULIANNE:

... door.

So he does. She flushes and SNATCHES up her own clothes, which

were characteristically tangled in a heap, and tries desperately to

untangle them enough to cover herself. He is amazed and amused by

her embarrassment.

MICHAEL (laughing)

Should I turn around, or someth...

JULIANNE:

Michael, I'm in my underwear!

She's TEARING at her clothes, only making more of a mess.

MICHAEL:

We've seen each other a lot

more naked than this.

She seems ready to rip her clothes apart, so he gently takes them

from her hands. She tries to stand unselfconsciously as he easily

untangles them.

MICHAEL:

I mean, we were skinny-dipping

in Greece, just as pals, less

than two years ago.

She GRABS the clothes and covers the front of herself. Looking at

him with a mix of emotions she couldn't begin to sort out.

JULIANNE:

Things are different now.

He looks in her eyes. And nods, a little sadly. Guess they are.

MICHAEL (softly)

Well. I leave with two thoughts

in my mind.

He walks to the door. Puts his hand on the latch. Looks back...

MICHAEL (even softer)

You're still a very pretty

girl.

The look holds. And holds. There is such feeling on both sides,

she doesn't know what to make of it. She swallows.

JULIANNE:

What's the sec...

MICHAEL:

Mirrors.

And he's gone. She looks around at six different VIEWS of her

uncovered backside. Hmm.

INT. HOTEL UNDERGROUND GARAGE - DAY

The parking valets wait by their stand as the convertible pulls up.

These girls must be late for something, the way they're jumping out

of the car.

JULIANNE:

... luckiest guy in the Northern

F***ing Hemisphere, is all I'm s...

KIMMY:

What? Because I'm a little

understand...

JULIANNE:

... most sentimental schmucks I

pity want a honeymoon after their

wedding. Just to top it off.

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