Strange Days Page #8

The guy is getting into his truck.

LENNY:

Okay, okay, I totally respect that

call. I would want cash. They'll

take my check inside... I can see

you're pressed for time, just give

me two minutes... here keep my watch

for collateral.

He hands the guy his watch.

LENNY:

It's a Rolex. Be right back. Two

minutes.

Lenny gets to the front door of the Coral Lounge, turns

just in time to see the tow-truck pulling out. Lenny runs

after his car, yelling, watching it recede.

LENNY:

Son of a b*tch!

Lenny walks back to the bar. He sets his Haliburton up on

the truck of a car and pops it open. He takes out a tiny

digital cellular phone and dials a number. While it's

ringing he takes another, identical Rolex knock-off out of

the briefcase and slips it on.

CUT TO:

INT. CAR - NIGHT

A hand pulls a ringing cellular out of a black jacket.

Follow the hand and phone to the face of a black woman.

LORNETTE "MACE" MASON. Late twenties. Striking features.

Hair pulled back tight to her skull. She is driving, but

we don't see the car, or anything but her face.

MACE:

Hello? Hey Lenny, whatup?

(listens a beat;

then)

Uh huh. Uh huh. Sure. So what

happened to your car this time?

CUT TO:

EXT. CORAL LOUNGE - NIGHT

A black limo pulls into the lot. It is a Continental

armored stretch, downsized from today's standards. The

door opens and Mace gets out. She is compactly built,

dressed in black slacks, a conservative black jacket,

heavy rubber-soled shoes. She glances around as she heads

for the Coral Lounge entrance, the unconscious sweeping

gaze of a security professional.

CUT TO:

INT. CORAL LOUNGE

Mace scopes the room quickly, professionally, then heads

for the bar.

ON Max and Lenny at the bar.

MAX:

See, if you packed your piece you

could've made the guy see sense.

LENNY:

Uh unh, carrying a gun wrecks the

line of a fine jacket.

MAX:

An ex-cop that doesn't carry. It's

embarrassing. I oughta not be seen

with you.

(as she slips up

behind them)

Hey, Mace. What's goin' on?

She plants herself between Max and Lenny and takes a

generous handful of their nachos.

MACE:

Greetings, gents.

(to Lenny)

So let's hear this week's sad story.

LENNY:

They jerked my wheels, d'you believe

it? I mean it's outrageous, the

computer errors the banks are making

lately. Have you noticed?

Mace and Max exchange a weary look.

MACE:

No. I haven't noticed because I

make my payments. So, Max Pelcher,

how's the P.I. business?

MAX:

Sucks.

(attention caught by

TV)

Hey, Bobby, turn that up.

The Bartender obeys: it's more news about the Jeriko One

killing. There's file footage of Jeriko and his band, the

Prophets of Rage; interview with a lot of furious fans,

mostly black inner city kids; and a news clip of Jeriko at

an outdoor rally, exhorting the crowd with near religious

fervor:

JERIKO ONE (ON T.V.)

The LAPD is a military force turned

against its own people. We live in

a police state! The mayor and the

city council sit up in their offices

with their social programs that

don't work... they're rearranging

deck chairs on the Titanic. But the

new day is coming! Two-K is coming!

The day of reckoning is upon us.

History ends and begins again right

here! Right now!

Max raises a glass in salute to the TV screen.

MAX:

To the end of all things!

(slugs down the shot)

You know how I know it's the end of

the world? Because everything's

been done, every kind of music's

been tried, every government's been

tried, every f***in' hairstyle.

How you gonna make it another

thousand years, for Chrissake?

On the TV, clip of Jeriko's speech has been replaced by an

interview with Jeriko One's manager. TRAN VO. Tran is

Vietnamese, and around Lenny's age. He's angular, suave,

cool as an early frost. Dialed in. Lenny sees his face

on the screen like a personal nightmare.

MAX:

I'm telling ya, it's over. We used

it all up--

LENNY:

(riveted to the TV)

Shutup a second!

MACE:

Hey, isn't that Tran Vo?

MAX:

Yup. He was Jeriko's manager.

(to screen)

Bummer, Tran! Lost your golden

goose. Couldn't happen to a nicer

guy.

MACE:

But I mean isn't he Faith's new--

(she mouths the word

"boyfriend")

MAX:

Sssssh! Not in front of Lenny. You

may trigger a maudlin display which

will force us to tranquilize him.

ON THE SCREEN, Tran is being jostled as he walks,

answering the reporters questions in a glare of minicam

lights.

REPORTER:

The LAPD have said they believe

this is a gang-related incident.

Can you comment on that, Mr. Vo?

TRAN:

We have no facts yet. All we know

for sure is that we have lost a

great artist, that a great voice for

change is now silent...

Lenny, scowling, pushes away from the bar. Mace goes with

him.

LENNY:

Thanks for giving me a ride. I just

have a few stops, mostly on the west

side--

MACE:

Whoa, whoa, whoa. I said I'd

drop you home, but I'm not taking

you on your sleazoid rounds. I've

already pulled twelve hours today.

LENNY:

(upbeat again)

Come on, Mace. This is gonna be a

big night. Can't you feel it? The

energy in the air? There's money to

be made, dreams to sell.

MACE:

Sleaze to peddle.

LENNY:

Just a couple of hours. It'll be

fun--

MACE:

Excuse me. What part of NO don't

you understand?

LENNY:

Mace, you're my friend. I need you.

Plus I'll give you 25% of what I

make tonight.

MACE:

Lenny, this may be a hard concept

for you, but friends don't have to

pay their friends.

Lenny starts to whine like a puppy. Mace gives up.

MACE:

Jeez, you're pathetic. Okay, I got

a pickup at the St. James. I'll

take you there, you can get a cab.

LENNY:

(an arm around her

like a buddy)

Mace! You're a life-saver.

MACE:

(resigned)

Driving Mr. Lenny.

CUT TO:

INT. LIMO - NIGHT

As Lenny and Mace cruise the night streets, passing the

ongoing pageant of cops and decay. Mace glances at Lenny,

sitting next to her in front, and at his omnipresent

Haliburton.

MACE:

So, what's up with you? Another

busy night selling porno to

wireheads?

LENNY:

No, wrong... I sell experiences.

Sex is only part of it.

MACE:

Buncha techno-perv jerkoffs.

LENNY:

Way I look at it, I actually perform

a humanitarian service. I save

lives.

MACE:

Uh huh, I wanna hear this part.

LENNY:

Okay, take some executive... bored

with his life, bored with his

wife... he picks up a hooker or some

girl at a bar. Then he goes around

for months, torn up worrying that

he's got AIDS, that he'll infect his

wife. And maybe he really does

catch something--

MACE:

Price he pays for being a

scumsucking pig.

LENNY:

Everybody needs to take a walk to

the dark end of the street sometime,

it's what we are. But now the risks

are outa line. The streets are a

war zone. And sex can kill you. So

you slip on the trodes, you get what

you need and it keeps you from

jumping your tracks.

MACE:

Lenny, this sh*t's illegal.

LENNY:

Define illegal.

MACE:

Me bailing your sorry pale ass out

of jail twice in the last six

months.

LENNY:

(kidding)

Yeah, but that was for love.

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