Nurse Betty

FADE IN:

1 INT. OPERATING ROOM - DAY 1

A tense surgery in progress. Meters flicker, instruments

flash in the bright overhead light. In the midst of it all

stands DR. DAVID RAVELL, 35. The master of his domain.

Ravell leans forward so a NURSE can mop the sweat from his

brow as he completes a last, delicate procedure. His co

workers sigh collectively with relief.

DAVID:

(to Asst. Surgeon)

Close her up, will you?

2 INT. HOSPITAL CORRIDOR - DAY 2

Dr. Ravell comes out of surgery, clearly exhausted. Without

his surgical mask he is ruggedly handsome. TWO NURSES

follow, attending him like a fighter fresh from the ring:

CHLOE, 25, Raven-haired and striking, and JASMINE, 24, an

exotic mix of African-American and Asian.

BLAKE DANIELS, 58, the silver-haired Chief Surgeon, rushes up

the corridor. On his heels is DR. LONNIE WALSH, 33. Lonnie

is also conspicuously handsome, but he'll always be second to

David. In everything.

The look on Blake's face stops David in his tracks.

BLAKE:

There's been a train crash near Santa

Barbara. They're flying an aortal trauma

here now. How can I ask you this,

David...

David rubs his eyes. Thinks about it.

DAVID:

I can do it, Blake.

His bravery isn't lost on the two nurses, although Chloe

exchanges a quick, covert glance with Lonnie.

CHLOE:

Is he crazy, Jasmine? He's been on his

feet for fourteen hours.

JASMINE:

Chloe, it's been this way since Leslie

died. Losing himself in his work, poor

thing...

2.

YOUNGER MAN'S

VOICE:

(O.S.)

... I'll give you something to lose

yourself in...

OLDER MAN'S VOICE

(O.S.)

Excuse me, miss?

PULL BACK TO REVEAL: WE ARE LOOKING AT A TELEVISION SCREEN

BEHIND THE COUNTER OF A SMALL-TOWN DINER.

INSERT:
FAIR OAKS, KANSAS

3 INT. TIP TOP DINER - DAY 3

Quaint, Midwestern eatery. Knick-knacks and photos abound.

The booths and counter are packed with LOCALS. A family

dining section off in one corner.

TWO GUYS sitting at the counter in team jackets. The older

of the two holds up his empty coffee cup. But his WAITRESS,

standing a couple seats down from him, doesn't move. She's

completely absorbed in watching the soap opera that plays on

two battered, fuzzy TV sets.

BETTY SIZEMORE, 30, has a wholesome attractiveness that

competes with a bit too much makeup and a cheesy white

waitress uniform. TWO OTHER WAITRESSES attend to customers

behind her.

The younger of the two guys is involved in the soap opera.

But the older one, still wants coffee. He gestures toward

Betty.

OLDER MAN:

Miss?

Betty leans forward, grabs the coffee pot and moves in front

of him. Without taking her eyes from the TV, she pours the

java, which somehow lands in his cup without spilling a drop.

OLDER MAN:

(cont'd)

Very impressive. That is very...

(turning to others)

Did anybody see that?

The LOCAL GUYS around him don't even bother to look up. Of

course, they've seen it before. Betty smiles.

3.

OLDER MAN:

(cont'd)

Thank you. Could I bother you for a

little more...?

Before he can even finish, Betty is topping him off with

milk.

BETTY:

Skim, right?

(tears open an Equal)

And half a pack, if I remember correct...

The older gentleman's mouth works a bit but nothing comes

out. He is flabbergasted by her attention to detail. She

looks at the younger man, who is still following the show and

gobbling down a huge bacon burger.

BETTY (cont'd)

You know, you're never too young to start

on a lean meat substitute...

(BEAT)

You wanna try some turkey bacon on that?

YOUNGER MAN:

You want a tip when I'm through?

BETTY:

It's your body...

Betty turns back to change pots. The older man watches her

intently as the younger of the two mumbles to himself.

YOUNGER MAN:

(to himself)

That's right, so why don't you get up off

it...

OLDER MAN:

Wesley...

(to Betty)

I've told him the same thing. Thanks for

the suggestion.

BETTY:

No problem.

Betty flashes the men a winning smile and moves off, one eye

always on the TV as she approaches two local types.

SHERIFF ELDEN BALLARD, 32, a short, tightly wound little man,

sitting at his own booth. Ballard is spit and polish all the

way:
creases in his shirt, a glossy shine on his shoes.

Badge proudly displayed. He sits with

4.

ROY OSTREY, 31, a gangly, bookish local reporter. Betty

drops five ketchup packets and four mayonnaise packets on the

table for him. Another smile.

ROY:

Hi, Betty. You're looking good...

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