Sideways Page #35

JACK:

Yeah.

MILES:

So what the f*** were you thinking?

JACK:

Wasn't supposed to be back till six.

F***er rolls in at five.

MILES:

Cutting it a little close, don't you

think?

(off Jack's silence)

So how was she? Compared to Stephanie,

say.

JACK:

Horny as sh*t. Flopping around like

a landed trout.

EXT. LOW-RENT STREET - MORNING

The Saab creeps around a corner.

INT./EXT. SAAB - MORNING

Jack scans the street.

JACK:

Yeah, this is the block. Just keep

going...

(spotting an AMC Pacer)

Yeah! This is it. There's her car.

Miles pulls over and cuts the engine.

MILES:

So what's the plan?

JACK:

The plan is... you go.

MILES:

Me?

JACK:

My ankle. Just go explain the

situation.

MILES:

(sarcastic, clearing

his throat)

Uh, excuse me, sir, but my friend

was the one balling your wife a couple

hours ago, and he seems to have left

his wallet behind, and we were

wondering...

JACK:

Yeah, yeah. Like that. Just like

that.

Miles gives Jack a withering look. Jack reaches for the DOOR

HANDLE.

JACK:

F*** you. I'll get it myself.

MILES:

(grabbing Jack's shirt)

Hold on.

EXT. CAMMI'S STREET - MORNING

Miles crosses the street and approaches --

EXT. CAMMI'S HOUSE - MORNING

Miles presses his ear against the front door. Nothing. Then

he notices --

A SLIDING GLASS DOOR a few feet away, just barely cracked

open.

MILES creeps over, sticks his hand into the open space and

pulls back the curtain to reveal --

A LIVING ROOM the is hideously MESSY. Draped over a deformed

beanbag chair are JACK'S LEVI'S.

Miles gathers his courage, carefully slides open the glass

door, and creeps inside.

INT. CAMMI'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

A furtive search of Jack's pockets reveals NOTHING. Then

Miles notices a HIGH-PITCHED SOUND wafting from an open door

down a short HALLWAY.

Miles feverishly begins foraging through the debris on the

floor. Again nothing. Meanwhile the noise from the bedroom

grows louder -- female MOANING in odd rhythmic unison with a

MAN'S VOICE.

IN THE HALLWAY --

Miles gets on ALL FOURS and starts crawling, weaving his way

through a trail of shoes and clothes.

Nearing the open door, the sounds grow more distinct --

MAN:

You don't think I f*** you, b*tch?

I'll f*** you.

CAMMI:

I'm a bad girl. I'm a bad girl.

Miles peers around the corner of the open door to see --

INT. CAMMI'S BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS

Cammi is TIED to the faux brass headboard. A BIG GUY slams

away at her. In the corner a soundless TV shows a PRESIDENTIAL

PRESS CONFERENCE.

MAN:

You picked him up and you f***ed

him, didn't you, b*tch?

CAMMI:

I picked him up and I f***ed him.

I'm a bad girl.

MAN:

And you liked f***ing him, didn't

you, you fat little whore?

CAMMI:

I liked it when you caught me f***ing

him.

Whoa!

Miles manages to tear his eyes away from this nature

documentary and scan the room.

IRIS IN --

to the WALLET atop the dresser.

Miles's eyes dart back and forth between the couple and the

wallet. His HEART BEATING LOUDLY, he goes for it. He scrambles

to his feet, dashes across the room, seizes the wallet and

tears out. Behind him he hears --

MAN (O.S.)

The f*** was that?

CAMMI (O.S.)

The wallet! He took Derek's wallet!

EXT. CAMMI'S HOUSE - CONTINUOUS

Miles comes flying out of the sliding glass door, followed

swiftly by the man, who is of course STARK NAKED. And he's

fast for a man his size.

CAMMI (O.S.)

Get him!

INT. SAAB - MORNING

Jack is reclined in the passenger seat FAST ASLEEP. On the

radio NPR'S CARL KASSEL reads the news.

THROUGH THE DRIVER'S WINDOW --

Miles comes sprinting towards us, mere steps ahead of Cammi's

naked husband. Finding the car door locked, Miles knocks

loudly on the glass, startling Jack awake.

MILES:

Open up! Jesus! Open the goddamn

door!

Jack flips the electric locks just in time for Miles to get

in before --

WHUMP! The guy's BELLY hits the window. He pounds on the

roof before trying the door, now re-locked.

MAN:

You motherfuckers! I'll kill you!

I'll kill you motherfuckers!

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