Switch Page #3

---

Including cosmetics,

perfume and jewelry...

it's $41,61 1.89.

How you wanna

pay for that, slick?

She never lets me pay for a thing.

If I tried, she'd probably shoot me,

dump me in the river.

Do you know how many poor animals

they had to kill to make that coat?

Do you know how many rich animals

I had to f*** to get this coat?

Here she comes.

Excuse me.

Miss Brooks, is it?

I'm Stuart Higgins,

the apartment manager.

Nice to meet you.

Do me a favor, Al.

I'm expecting a big delivery

from Bloomingdale's.

Would you send it up?

I got a hot date tonight.

I'm sorry, but I can't allow you

to stay in Mr. Brooks' apartment...

unless you can prove

you really are his sister.

- Do you have some identification?

- Like what?

- A driver's license?

- I don't drive.

- Credit cards?

- I don't charge.

You told Mac the night guard...

that your brother

told Al the day guard...

that you'd be staying

in your brother's apartment.

- Yeah.

- Well...

this is Al, and he doesn't remember

your brother saying that.

- You don't remember that, Al?

- No, ma'am.

- How old are you?

- Forty-nine.

You told me you were 50.

Don't you remember?

The day my brother introduced us,

you said you just had a birthday.

- I met you?

- Yeah, I told you how young you looked.

Could start that early.

It could.

It's probably nothing serious,

just short-term...

but if I were you,

I'd get it checked.

You can call Arnold Freidkin.

He's my boss at F&B.

If that doesn't satisfy you,

call Laura Patrick.

- Who?

- Laura Patrick.

Redhead my brother fixed you up with

when your wife was out of town.

You should get checked too.

You're getting just as forgetful as Al.

Check out the headlights

on the blonde.

How'd you like to play "hide

the salami" with that for about a week?

Not me. You.

You don't think that's

a perfectly legitimate question?

Coming from a guy, maybe.

You don't think

women talk to women that way?

Yeah, I guess so.

Sometimes. Some women.

So what's wrong with a woman

talking to a man that way?

I don't know. I just think that

when a man talks to a woman...

or a woman talks to a man...

it should be more romantic.

So women aren't supposed to feel or talk

about the same things a man feels?

It's okay for a man to say

"I'm horny. I'd like to get laid."

- This is not okay for a woman to say?

- You sound like Gloria Steinem.

Let's go to Duke's.

- Steve told you about Duke's?

- Yeah.

I used to put your brother to bed

after six of these.

- Yeah? How many is this?

- Five.

Good. I got one to go.

Nope. That's a double.

Then I'll just sip it.

I was afraid of that.

- I really miss him.

- Who? Duke?

No. Steve.

Why? I mean, face it.

He wasn't the nicest guy

in the world.

Especially where women

are concerned.

He loves kids, though.

And dogs.

And he does things for people

nobody knows about...

except for me and the shrink he was

seeing for about six months.

And God.

- Yeah. He knows.

- She.

He's like Popeye.

- God?

- No. Steve. You know.

"I am what I am."

He is what he is.

He's a smart, funny, charming...

dyed-in-the-wool

male chauvinist...

who brags about most things other guys

are afraid to admit to themselves.

And you know what?

He likes me.

He's very loyal.

You wanna know why, Walter?

Why?

Because he envies you.

See, you're a good guy.

How do you know that?

- That you're a good guy?

- No, that he envies me.

Oh. Well.

He told me.

He said, "Amanda...

you stick with Walt.

He's a good guy."

- Maybe I'm not so good.

- How come?

To tell you the truth...

I really, really

wanna go to bed with you.

Like that's a hot news flash.

I can't because you're

my best friend's sister.

What do you mean? Steve wouldn't have

trouble going to bed with your sister.

I don't have a sister.

Even if I did, I don't think he would.

Oh, he would.

Take my word for it.

So what are you saying?

That I should?

I mean, if I could--

If you could, yeah, sure.

- But you can't.

- No?

No. Sorry.

You mind telling me why?

'Cause I'm not really

who you think I am.

It's me, Walt--

Steve.

I died, and...

God wouldn't

let me into heaven...

'cause I been such a sh*t

to women.

That's why? God.

If I want to go to heaven...

I gotta find--

I gotta find one female

who likes me.

That's not gonna be easy.

- Hey. You believe I'm Steve?

- Yeah. Sure.

I knew you would.

- Hey, Steve.

- What?

I'd still like

to f*** your sister.

- She is not Steve!

- You didn't look in her e yes.

She didn't kiss you,

for Christ's sake.

- Give me that.

- Spooky.

It's bullshit, darling.

You're a sucker for that kind of thing.

That's why she chose you.

How does she know about everything?

You can laugh, but I get the feeling

she's watching us right now.

Hello?

You're a major stockholder

with Faxton Cosmetics.

I want an appointment

with Sheila Faxton tomorrow afternoon.

You sound drunk.

You sound stoned.

Three of you getting high, trying

to figure out what to do about me?

- Was that--

- Steve.

- You mean Amanda.

- No, I mean Steve!

Coffee.

Where is my address book?

- Your address book?

- Steve's address book.

- Oh. Bottom drawer.

- No, I looked there.

Guess I can't think

with all this hair.

You have beautiful hair.

You know how long it takes

to dry? Get me my barber.

Your barber?

I don't have a barber.

My hairdresser.

In fact, who does your hair?

It's nice. It's all off your face.

Sergei, actually.

Sergei, good.

Get me an appointment with Sergei.

Go, go, go!

Media.

How may I direct your call?

Hello. A Miss Darlene Wooster,

please.

One moment, please.

- This is Darlene.

- Darlene.

I'm writing a book called

Great Names In Advertising.

Steven Brooks gave you

as a recommendation.

I was wondering if you could

tell me about him.

I don't believe that a**hole

gave you my number!

Didn't think

you were so hot, either.

Morning.

What's up?

You said you wanted me

to show you the ropes, so--

Oh, yeah. Right.

- You look like sh*t, pal.

- You don't look too good yourself.

You all right?

You're red.

- Got a fever or somethin'?

- Probably too much rouge.

Gotta be a f***in' Rembrandt

to put on makeup.

Put your chin up.

There you go. That's good.

Remember when

I thought you were Connie?

That's Connie.

Good. All right.

Let's take a break.

I think I need salt

'cause I keep crampin' up.

- Okay, turn the music down.

- Hi.

Hi. I'm Amanda Brooks.

I'm Steve's sister.

He never told me

he had a sister.

I'm his half sister.

Hello, Walter. He never told me

he had a half a sister.

- Have you seen him lately?

- Haven't heard from him in three days.

I'm afraid he's disappeared.

Where?

We don't know.

He just...

said he went someplace

to start again.

- Start what?

- His life.

- Like Gauguin.

- Who?

Gauguin, Connie, is a painter...

who gave everything up

and moved to Tahiti.

I thought you said

you didn't know where he went.

I thought you said

you didn't know where he went.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes