Nancy, Please Page #3

amounts to stealing.

She is stealing from me!

Of course it's your book,

nobody's disputing that.

But it seems as if Nancy's

gonna be as big a b*tch

about this as she possibly can.

And what's right, isn't

necessarily what's best.

Wouldn't you say?

(HINGES CREAK)

(LOW BASS RIFF)

(GENERAL BUSTLING NOISE)

(MUSIC CHANGES, SWELLS)

(BAND PLAYING)

Break her thumbs.

- How long has it been?

- Seven and a half days.

- Seriously, break her thumbs.

- I'm not breaking Nancy's thumbs.

Fag.

I'm serious. What

do I do about this?

One would one reasonably

do in this situation?

Well for starters you could

stop being such a baby.

Intimidate her, man.

Just tell her you're going

to punch her in the vagina.

She's a freaking little elf woman.

Just put the pressure on her.

Won't work. Nancy is

insanely stubborn.

This one time, we'd only been

living together a few months,

I told her that if she didn't

was her dishes I was gonna

throw them all out into the street.

They'd been sitting there

for like a week, stinking,

I was mostly... joking. You know?

She gets up...

collects a bunch of plates, out

the sink that belong to her,

she walks outside, and

smashes them in the street.

One at a time. Slowly.

Then she comes back in,

and never says another

word about it.

- That's insane.

- Yes.

Nancy's insane. She

actually did that?

More or less.

I mean, to be fair, wasn't

that cut and dry, but...

F*** that! No. F***in' bluffing

paper-tiger diva bullshit!

- You still have the keys to her place?

- No.

Alright, we're gonna go

get this f***in' thing.

What?

We're gonna go get this

f***in' book right now.

This is stupid, come on.

No, what if she isn't home?

Then we have a relaxing drive

around sunny New Haven.

Come on!

It's a little late to go...

Better remorse, than

regret, my friend.

You're ok to drive, right?

(SNORTS, LAUGHS)

(SIGHS)

Takes money to make money.

I'm gonna roll by.

(MUSIC FROM CAR RADIO)

She's home! She's home!

Wh... Pull over!

- Turn off the lights?

- What?

- Why?

- So she can't see us.

- We want her to see us.

- Just for a second!

Why are you whispering?

(CLICK, CAR ENGINE TURNS OFF)

(STILL WHISPERING) I'm not.

(CRICKETS)

I see her, look! Oh...

I'm gonna call her.

(PHONE RINGING)

She's never gonna answer.

- Hello?

- Hey!

- Who is this?

- It's Paul.

- Oh.

- Hey...

Listen, I'm sorry to bother you,

but I'm right in the neighborhood,

could I stop by real

quick and get my book?

- It's 11:
22.

- I know...

- I'm uh...

- P.M!

Yes, I understand what time it is.

But like I said I'm just

right nearby so if I cou...

I'm not really at home right now.

What do you mean that

you're not really at home?

It means I'm not available!

Really?

That's strange, because it

looks like your lights are on.

- What?!

- Listen,

Hey, no... Why don't you

just grab the book,

and I'm coming to the

door in about 30 seconds.

You're looking in my

windows?! Oh my God,

- you f***ing freak!

- Uh, I'm not looking

in your windows. I'm parked

at the curb. This is...

This is the last time you

f***ing spy on me, man.

I'm gonna get a f***ing

restraining order, your fucki...

Hey, Nancy.. n...

Go... (STAMMERS) Damnit!

What the f***?

She's freaking out man!

(DOGS BARKING)

PAUL:
Sh*t!

- What the f***?

- Ahhh!

Agh!

(PHONE RINGING)

Right, this isn't good.

Nah! She's not going to answer.

She's not ans...

(EXASPERATED NOISE)

Nancy! Nanc...

(DOOR SLAMS)

Nancy, just give me my book.

Throw it out the window!

- I just want...

- Give him his f***ing book!

Nancy! Be reasonable!

Just give me my book!

FRIEND:
Just go bang on the f***ing

door, man. Don't take this sh*t!

(DOG BARKS IN DISTANCE)

FRIEND:

Why are you just standing there?!

JEN:

I heard the squirrels last night.

PAUL:
Told you.

It's pretty annoying.

Will you call the landlord?

No... but you can.

And you can also call

CLP today and get the

electric bill switched, okay?

(SMOOCH)

Jen?

Uh...

Last night...

um, Charlie and I...

dropped by Nancy's place.

When?

11:
22 p.m.

- And?

- Uh, didn't really...

You know, we drove over,

and saw that she was home

and I called and asked

if I could get the book, and...

Well...

In a nutshell she freaked out

and called me a psycho and...

hung up.

Huh.

Wow.

That was ...kinda stupid.

Well I guess that's it then.

I'm really sorry.

Right?

I have to blow my nose.

Right?!

Right what?

(SNIFFLES, BLOWS NOSE)

That's it, right?

I mean, you shouldn't

have done that.

In retrospect it was

a bad idea, but,

that has nothing to do with

anything, it's still my book.

She's probably tearing it

into little pieces right now.

I'm sorry but you have to

let this go, it's done!

Dropping by on someone

unannounced is impolite,

I guess, but it's not

on a par with stealing.

Jesus Christ, if you

and Charlie showed up

on my doorstep drunk in the middle

of the night, I'd be pissed off too!

That has nothing to do

with the fact that she

still has my property!

If she doesn't cooperate

- then I'm gonna go and talk to the cops.

- Paul this has gone too far.

I can't support this anymore.

I withdraw my support.

Fine. Um...

You won't hear another

word about it.

(WATER TRICKLING, CLASSICAL MUSIC)

(MUSIC DROPS ABRUPTLY,

TAPPING, PATTING)

(SCUTTLING, SCRATCHING)

(PITTER PATTER, CHAIR SQUEAKING)

(SCUTTLES, CREAKS)

(SCRATCHING, TAPPING)

(SCRATCHING, SCUTTLING)

(DOOR CLICKS OPEN)

(SQUEAKING HINGES)

(RUSTLING)

(KNOCKING, CHITTERING,

RUSTLING AND SCRATCHING)

(JOSTLING)

Un, deux, trois...

(WHIRRING, SPLINTERING,

SQUIRRELS CHITTER AND SCURRY)

(WHISPERING) What the f***...?

(BUSTLING, PHONES RINGING)

(DOOR CREAKING)

MAN:
Paul!

- Hey!

- How ya doing?

MAN:
Jim Pehosky.

Paul Brawley. Pleased to meet you.

Please have a seat.

So you go to school with my nephew?

Yeah, Charlie and I, we're

in the same program

- at Yale over there.

- Right.

How's that treatin' ya?

Oh, fine. Um... Charlie's

a really bright guy.

- He does great work.

- So...

I hear you're having some

trouble with your roommate.

Former roommate,

that's right. Um...

What happened is, uh...

I moved out a couple of weeks ago,

and I left something behind

in the old apartment.

What'd you forget?

- Um, a book.

- A rare book?

No. The book itself is

easily replaceable,

but I had some notes written in it.

- Personal stuff?

- No, for my dissertation.

Um, called, uh...

"No Innocent Men:

Structures and Theories

of Penology and Government

in Charle's Dickens'

'Little Dorrit.'"

(SGT. SMACKS)

And... you don't need

to know that, but...

- I guess uh...

- Notes, huh?

They're pretty critical.

Why won't your

roommate give it back?

Does, does he need

it for something?

She, no. She could not

possibly need it for anything.

She's... I think she's just

keeping it out of spite.

What's she got to

be spiteful about?

I've no idea... um...

She's just a...

preacher of hate, I think.

This is an ex-girlfriend of yours?

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