The Doors Page #24

TOM:

I think you both should take your

heads out of the toilet bowl. After

"Soft Parade" You need an album

sweetheart.

MIKE:

You should take it outta your ass.

JIM:

The first two novels come along they

love you, next few they slam but if

you stay around long enough, one day

they say, "hey he's part of the

national psyche".

STEWARDESS:

What are you drinking?

MIKE:

Screwdrives-her.

(lifts her skirt)

STEWARDESS:

(to Siddons)

I'm going to have to call the captain

if you can't control these people. I

guarantee that.

TOM:

(a cruel sarcasm Jim

seems to enjoy)

...if you live long enough, don't

kid yourself Jimbo -- you're all

alone out there, Jimbo, cept for me,

cause you're too wacked out man,

they're scared, you're too f***in

crazy.

JIM:

(feigning innocence)

I wasn't mad, Tom. I was only

interested in freedom.

TOM:

(the devil)

Bullshit! You're bored, you're not

free. You tested all the limits,

fame, f***ing, money, -- whatcha

gonna do now Jimbo! When the music's

over, when you're too fat and ugly

to get on a stage, whatcha gonna do

for act three -- puke on Heaven's

door?

JIM:

Listen you two bit f***in actor, you

underestimate the audience. You think

they all want a better job, a house,

two cars, money, that's what you

think but you know what they really

want, Tom, in their lives, what they

really want --

TOM:

Tell me.

JIM:

(a whisper)

...something sacred, that's what

they want, something sacred.

Tom spews the contents of his mouth all over Jim in response.

Jim throws his sandwich back at Tom... then another drink

goes...

JIM:

F*** you ignorant devil's a**hole

slave!

TOM:

No you. Something sacred. My cock is

sacred. Suck on that!

JIM:

I don't eat shrimp.

A full fledged food fight in progress. Dog, Tom, Jim, Mike

pushing and shoving. A drink spills over an innocent

PASSENGER.

DOG:

Incoming!

The STEWARDESS coming up with the CAPTAIN.

CAPTAIN:

ALL RIGHT!! If you young men don't

change your attitude right now, when

we get to Miami you're going to be

arrested.

JIM:

Yes, sir.

(reflexively)

TOM:

(saluting)

YESSIR -- you a**hole.

EXT. MIAMI AIRPORT - SAME NIGHT

PLANE taxiing up. TWO POLICE CARS, red lights revolving, are

waiting.

INT. PLANE - SAME NIGHT

PILOT escorting FOUR FBI AGENTS aboard.

CAPTAIN:

As captain of this ship I'm placing

all four of you under arrest. The

FBI will...

MIKE:

For what! What'd we do!

TOM:

Read me my rights, motherfuckers...

motherfuckin bulls!

JIM stunned in his drunkenness. SIDDONS and ROTHCHILD

protesting AD LIBS.

INT. MIAMI AUDITORIUM - THAT NIGHT

The CROWD is heckling a long-haired HIPPIE in a leather hat

who cradles a live, snow-white LAMB telling him to "GET OFF",

screaming AD LIB for the "DOORS, DOORS, DOORS!! JIM JIM JIM!!"

HIPPIE:

Look at this thing! Look at this

beautiful little living thing!! How

can you eat it!! How can you eat its

flesh???

CATCALLS. Angry fists pound the edge of the proscenium. Bodies

push and pack against each other. If Hieronymus Bosch had

painted a rock concert, this would be it.

HIPPIE:

LOVE ANIMALS, DON'T EAT THEM!!!!

(Boos!!)

INT. BACKSTAGE - THAT NIGHT

Excitement. EVERYBODY moving fast...

...as JIM, dark sunglasses and beard, surrounded by TWO FBI

AGENTS and his BODYGUARDS move toward the stage, two hours

late. SIDDONS with him arguing AD LIB with RAY and the

PROMOTER, a southern sleazeball with long muttonchops and

velvet shirt and beads. A mess -- the CROWD chanting DOORS!

DOORS! DOORS! DOORS!

SIDDONS:

(screaming at promoter)

What the F*** happened to the SEATS!!

(grabs him)

What's the F***ING IDEA man! THERE'S

NO SEATS!

PROMOTER:

I took 'em out! What's wrong with

that! We stuffed an extra five thou

in there.

(pissed at Jim)

Where the f*** you been!

SIDDONS:

That wasn't THE F***ING IDEA MAN!!

We're gonna sue you!... We're pulling

the plug.

PROMOTER:

So sue me! You're playing or you

ain't leaving here with your equipment

sonny!

SIDDONS:

(to Ray)

We're not playing.

Meanwhile, JOHN arguing with RAY and JIM who sways, drunk.

The FBI agents get lost in the background.

JOHN:

I'm not going out there man!

RAY:

JOHN, C'MON!!

JOHN:

Look at him! I'm not going out there

'till I get some sorta guarantee

he's gonna stay in line. I've had it

with this sh*t.

JIM:

Whatsa matter, scared Johnny boy?

JOHN:

(going physically for

Jim)

YOU'RE A F***IN A**HOLE MAN!!

RAY:

JOHN!! STOP IT!! COME ON!!

Jim laughing, throws his arm around ROBBIE for support, ROBBIE

patient with him. John yelling as they approach the curtains

and the lights and the first monster realization of the

THOUSAND MOUTHS waiting in the pit of hell.

JOHN:

You're pushing death Morrison.

Everybody thinks we're drug addicts

cause of you Morrison.

JIM:

We the Beatles yet?

JOHN:

(held by Ray)

We took drugs to EXPAND MINDS A**HOLE,

not ESCAPE. I'M NOT GOING OUT THERE

WITH YOU.

JIM:

Hey John y'ever eaten human flesh?

When we get to New York, I know this

chick...

RAY:

(taking John aside)

Come on man.

JOHN:

I'm not going out there!

RAY:

We'll talk tomorrow, we'll settle

it. Just do it tonight man and...

As JIM brings up a tiny vial with a lubricating head on it,

holds it to Robbie's lips playfully. They're in the shadows.

JIM:

...just a touch Robbie, it's the

funkiest stuff, you'll play like an

orgasm tonight...

ROBBIE:

No man come on, I don't want any.

JIM:

...just a little lick, come on trust

me... for old times, the four of us,

let's get together one more time,...

the Doors man... Please. For me.

Something so sincere in Jim's eyes. Robbie takes the fatal

lick. Jim smiles manically as the NUREMBERG SOUNDS of the

CROWD drown them out.

ROBBIE:

You said you love pain man, but you

run from it every chance you get.

INT. STAGE - SAME NIGHT

The DOORS come out finally. The noise is overwhelming. Acid,

light, noise. Wagnerian Gods, Hitler...

JIM spreading his arms like Icarus set to fly. The ROARS

redouble, their FEET stomping out:

CROWD:

(insane)

DOORS DOORS DOORS DOORS...

Joints are thrown by the dozen on the stage at Jim's feet.

He is a god now as he bends regally, picks one up.

COPS everywhere looking as...

He lights it. The CROWD going nuts as the DOORS go into the

ominous introductory strains of FIVE TO ONE trying to get

the onus off Jim and the show on the road. The Audience knows

the song, go into a primal FOOT STOMP with it. Bras are thrown

on stage. Kids writhe madly in the primal Doors dance.

People with SPARKLERS running through the hangar. CAMERA

FLASHBULBS popping throughout the show... get Jim on film

while you can.

Jim, drunk, high, smoking the jay, won't go into the lyrics

right off, forcing the Doors to circle the beat again. He

jerks his hand back from the mike as if it were a hot wire.

JIM:

ARE YOU READY!!!!

(beat)

ARE YOU REAAAAAAADYYYYYYYYY!!

The Crowd explodes once more. As a COP heads upstage to get

Jim for the joint -- he cooly flicks it back into the crowd,

avoiding disaster. Perfect timing as the Cop looks around,

suddenly distracted by:

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