Reagan Page #8

EXT. DON REGAN’S HOUSE - DECEMBER 1, 1985

The Potomac mansion hosts a party that can be heard outside.

INT. DON REGAN’S HOUSE - SAME

A Washington Schmoozefest: a CHAMBER ORCHESTRA playing near

the fireplace, MEN and WOMEN in thousand dollar suits, bow-

tied WAITERS carrying trays of HORS D’OEUVRES.

44.

Amongst the insiders, Frank is in a corner, sipping his first

sip of CHAMPAGNE. Don approaches him as a host, not a boss.

DON:

Enjoying the party?

FRANK:

Yes sir, Mr. Regan.

DON:

As a guest in my home; ‘Don’s’ just

fine. You’ve been doing excellent

work recently. I’ve taken notice.

FRANK:

Thank you...Don. Sir, I was

wondering if we could talk a

minute. I have ideas-

DON:

Can it wait til Monday?

FRANK:

Well...yes.

DON:

Monday it is, then. Have fun.

He leaves to shake a more important hand. Frank is alone...

PEGGY (O.S.)

You’re not here for your ideas.

...Until Peggy joins him.

PEGGY (CONT’D)

You’re here so you feel like part of

a team. Politicians love ‘teams.’

FRANK:

Well, you know, we work for them.

PEGGY:

I work for the President. He’s the

last good man in this town.

Although there’s hope for you.

FRANK:

I just want to help make a

difference. That’s all.

PEGGY:

Make sure it stays that way.

45.

She eyes the crowd as schmoozers do their thing.

PEGGY (CONT’D)

These people gave up on that a long

time ago. They’re just cravenly

clinging to their jobs. How much

difference can you make doing that?

(then)

You know what’s hilarious? No one

knows who you are.

FRANK:

(beat, then forced)

Haha! I know, right?

PEGGY:

Do you actually know why that’s funny

or are you just fake laughing?

FRANK:

The...the second one.

PEGGY:

Every one of these people here are

terrified of not knowing someone

they should. If you introduce

yourself, they’ll act like they

voted for you. Go on, try it.

FRANK:

No, I can’t do that.

PEGGY:

Come on, entertain me.

After a moment, Frank stands up. Walks to a RANDOM MAN.

FRANK:

Hi. Frank Corden.

WILLIAM CASEY:

Bill Casey, CIA. I’ve heard a lot

about you, Frank!

FRANK:

Yeah, me...me too!

He makes a face to Peggy, who grins. Frank targets another

man in a MARINE’S UNIFORM (43). With even more panache:

FRANK (CONT’D)

Frank Corden.

46.

OLIVER NORTH:

Ollie North. It’s a real honor.

Frank is loving this game. Before he can try a third time:

WYOMING (O.S.)

You’re not going to say hello?

Wyoming greets Frank with a squeeze on his shoulder.

FRANK:

Mr. Cheney, hi.

DICK (WYOMING)

Ah, you looked me up.

Seeing her entertainment is over, Peggy exits through the

back. Frank doesn’t even notice.

FRANK:

Yeah. I wasn’t sure about any of

this when it started. But I’ve

really learned a lot.

DICK:

You’ve taught us a lot, too, Frank.

More than you’ll ever know. By the

way, I hired your old friend Karl

as my new assistant.

FRANK:

‘Friend,’ right. He’s here?

DICK:

No. Assistants don’t attend parties

like these.

Frank smiles, the first time he’s felt included.

FRANK:

Here’s to being invited.

Frank clinks his glass against Dick’s.

DICK:

You got plans for after your

current ‘assignment’?

FRANK:

Oh, I don’t know. Wherever they’ll

have me. Maybe I’ll join the veep’s

campaign when the next race starts.

47.

DICK:

I’ll let you in on a secret, kid:

there’s always a race. People don’t

know that. And even though they’ll

tell you otherwise, last time I

checked, they only call one guy the

winner. You know what they call the

rest of the guys, don’t you?

Frank absorbs this for a moment. Then, hoping for an A+:

FRANK:

So the lesson is to run faster than

everyone else.

Dick shakes his head with a crooked grin.

DICK:

The lesson, kid, is to always start

running first.

This time, Dick clinks his glass against Frank’s. The lecture

is broken by Don, who spots something disconcerting.

DON:

Oh no...

That something is Bud, who is soaked in sweat and gin.

BUD:

Everyone n’joying the party?

Don and Caspar approach him cautiously.

DON:

Hey, Bud, how are you feeling?

BUD:

How’m I feeling? Mmmmm...Not great.

CASPAR:

Well, how about we go in the other

room and talk about it?

BUD:

They’re gonna find out, Caspar.

They’re all gonna find out.

CASPAR:

You’re sh*t-faced, Bud. Let’s get

you a lie-down before you puke up

some very expensive shrimp.

48.

BUD:

We’re not gonna get away with it.

Always eager to help, Frank walks over, too.

FRANK:

Mr. McFarlane, it’s going to be okay.

BUD:

You don’t f***ing know, Frank! You

don’t know about the helicopter!

CASPAR:

Okay, Bedtime for Budzo!

Caspar and Don restrain Bud, who starts to thrash violently.

BUD:

They’re gonna find out! They will!

In his writhing, Bud bumps his head on a doorjamb and knocks

himself woozier.

CASPAR:

God, thank you, door!

DON:

Let’s get him in a bed.

(to Frank)

His feet.

Frank picks up his legs. They carry Bud into the next room.

INT. DON REGAN’S HOUSE - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

They plop Bud down on the bed. Frank is still fixated.

FRANK:

What’s this helicopter he’s talking

about? Is this the Enterprise?

CASPAR:

Stop asking questions you don’t

want answers for.

FRANK:

If it’s important, I should know-

DON:

Here, take his reading glasses.

Frank absentmindedly goes to stuff the glasses in his jacket

pocket, but something is already there.

49.

He pulls out...the actor’s BAG OF COCAINE! He immediately

stuffs it back in. But someone saw him from through the door:

OLIVER! After brief eye contact with him, Frank quickly shuts

the door.

LATER. Frank tries to slip to the exit. He turns a corner and

walks right into Oliver. They stare in a standoff. Then:

OLIVER:

I have to go to the bathroom.

FRANK:

...Great.

OLIVER:

Do you have to go to the bathroom?

FRANK:

No.

OLIVER:

Yes. You do.

FRANK:

...I mean, I could go.

INT. DON REGAN’S HOUSE - BATHROOM

Oliver does a massive line of cocaine off the toilet seat.

Frank nervously leans on the towel-rack.

OLIVER:

Whoo doggy! That’s nice. You’re up,

Skipper.

FRANK:

I’m good. Not really a drugs guy.

OLIVER:

What are you, a cop? I can’t party

by myself. That’s not a party. Come

on, try it.

FRANK:

I’m gonna Just Say No, here.

OLIVER:

Just Say Yes, it’s fun.

FRANK:

Sir, I could lose my job.

50.

OLIVER:

Oh, what’s a job?

FRANK:

It’s everything. Come on, the guys

I work with are finally starting

to...not openly despise me.

OLIVER:

If you don’t try this, I’m going to

tell everyone you did.

FRANK:

Then I would have actually done it.

OLIVER:

And I won’t tell anybody.

FRANK:

Really?

(off his nod)

This is some position you put me in.

OLIVER:

I know. Worked on Lebanon once.

Oliver holds out a finger with a bump of blow on it. Frank

slowly snorts it. Oliver jams his finger into his nostril.

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