One More Time Page #7

The show was more

than I imagined.

Really, I... I'm sorry

you weren't there, babe.

That surprised me.

They told me you weren't there.

Lucille, you ok?

Whoa!

What?

You sh*t!

Now, focus here.

He's showing 16.

Common wisdom is you stick

at 16, you play it safe.

What do we say about

playing it safe?

That's for pussies?

Exactamundo.

So how's dad holding

up since Lucille left?

You know, ain't

exactly new form.

Yeah.

I have a feeling this

one's going to get ugly.

It's like something...

Out of Mamet?

It's exactly like

something out of Mamet.

Where was I?

You were in London,

with Harry Nelson.

Nilsson.

Ok, so I'm in London,

it's the '80s,

I'm in this club... it's 5:00 am.

I'm with Cosmo, the

manager of the clash.

I was never a big punk person,

but Cosmo was the real deal.

Big heart.

And he had on this

fantastic shirt,

and I said to him, Cosmo,

that shirt is fantastic.

And he said, you want it?

Let's swap.

So right there, he peels it

off, and he hands it to me.

Now here, you

should double down.

I taught you how to double down.

I got the best of that swap.

It still fits.

Now you do it.

As anticipated, Lucille

filed the divorce papers

this morning.

But there's a little wrinkle.

Lucille is claiming

that she wrote "when

I live my life over again."

Oh, that's absurd.

No court's gonna buy that.

It's not quite as open and

shut a case as you might think.

It's not like Paul is known

for his songwriting abilities.

Where does it say that

the two skills are related?

Did anybody complain that Brando

didn't write his own lines?

I know that, but,

you know, she's

exploiting a... a vulnerability

in the public perception.

Well, has Lucille

ever written a song?

No, but she does happen

to be in possession

of a very compelling piece

of physical evidence,

which is the original

manuscript of the song,

in her own handwriting.

Yes, I was driving... I dictated

it to her while I was driving

with both hands on the wheel.

Were there any

witnesses to that?

Lucille.

Well, you see the problem.

I mean, can't you

threaten to, like,

counter-sue her, or something?

Of course I can, and I will.

But she's girding for a

long, drawn out legal battle.

She's going to drag your

reputation through the mud,

call your integrity

into question, and PS,

it's going to be

extremely expensive.

She could be counting on the

fact that you're gonna settle.

Settle how?

By offering to share

songwriting credit with her.

I'd rather stick

pins in my eyeballs.

Well, there is another option.

Don't release the song.

I mean, give her all

the credit she wants,

but, you know, she'll never

make a penny off of it,

because no one

will ever hear it.

Simple.

It's actually not the

stupidest idea I ever heard.

It's close.

You know, you

just have to decide

how badly you want to

beat her, and if you want

to sacrifice your comeback.

I have another idea.

What?

You it busy?

Oh, um...

Good.

About the other night...

Look, Tim, seriously, I...

Jude, we have to

talk about this.

You weren't entirely

to blame for all that.

And I know, you know,

one of the reasons

you don't come out here

so often is because of me.

Don't flatter yourself.

Am I wrong?

You know what?

Hang on.

I can't deny, you know,

it's fun playing what ifs,

and, you know,

flirting with you.

Fantasizing.

I... I know I do it.

I know it's wrong.

Sorry.

I'm... not used to being told

something's not my fault.

Uh, you know, I said it

was not entirely your fault,

so it's really

just not entirely...

You know what?

It's close enough.

I'll take it.

No.

God, Tim.

I'm sorry.

I thought... I thought

that was what you wanted.

No.

God.

I mean... but... yes.

Yeah, but you said it yourself.

It's not right.

All right.

And you're just figuring

this out now, huh?

Yeah.

Kinda.

I know it's f***ed up, Tim.

What do you want, Jude?

A sparkling blanc

with citrus and ginger?

Right here.

And a decaf flat white.

So, what is it

that's on your mind?

Obviously everyone's very

upset about what's going on,

and one of the most

disturbing things

is your claim that you

wrote "when I live my life."

It's not a claim.

It's a fact.

Tell me how that happened.

How you wrote the song.

Well, your father and I

were driving down the road.

And what road was that?

And out of the blue, these

words just suddenly came to me.

So the lyrics came

first, and then the music?

Yes, the lyrics came first.

So at dinner, when my father

said that he wrote the song

and you just took dictation,

why did you back him up?

Look, I was not

going to embarrass

him in front of his family.

You know how fragile the

male ego is, especially his.

You know, Lucille, if you

would have acted this well

when you were doing

it for a living,

you might have had a career.

Setting aside the

fact that we all

know you couldn't

write a shopping list,

let alone a hit song, this

Pinocchio tale of yours

is the biggest load of sh*t

I've ever heard in my life.

And a jury is going

to feel the same way.

Yeah, well, we'll

see about that.

What I am proposing is

an alternative to court.

We're prepared to offer you a

very fair lump sum in exchange

for making this all go away.

And what's your definition

of this very fair lump sum?

Are you kidding with that?

That is a joke.

That is what we're offering.

And what if I refuse?

Then we'll all put

on our Sunday best,

and we'll go to court.

Guess I'll see you there, then.

I think I'm gonna

have the crepe.

By the way, have

you seen this movie

called "Beverly hills cock?"

How about "desperately

sucking Susan?"

I haven't seen them myself,

not being an aficionado

of '80s porn, but the private

eye who found them for me

says you gave quite

the performance.

You didn't think we knew

about that part of your past,

did you?

And these aren't softcore

nudies we're talking about,

particularly this film

called "poonstruck."

No, I was never in that.

That is a f***ing lie.

But we'll say you were.

We'll say lots of

things, and we'll

leave it up to the

court of public opinion

to sort it all out.

Jesus Christ.

What do you think this

is, "the Scarlet letter?"

Ok, so I did some skin flicks

when I was a young actress.

Big f***ing deal.

Your father hasn't been

a choir boy all his life.

I'm sure there's

some dirty laundry

that he wouldn't like aired.

Yeah, it's a funny thing

about that, actually.

Paul's history sort of

insulates him on that front.

It's that, uh, ugly

double standard again.

So what I'm here to ask you

is are you willing to pass up

a guaranteed payday to spend

years in a long legal battle

over the share of rights to a

song that may or may not even

see the light of day, and

have your name dragged

through the mud,

which I assure you al

and I will absolutely

make sure happens?

Or do you want to

take what I'm offering

and move on with your life?

Don't be stupid, Lucille.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes