The Man Who Wasn't There Page #3
ED (V.O.)
...and I doubt if she believed in
life everlasting; she'd most likely
tell you that our reward is on this
earth and bingo is probably the extent
of it...
Still focused on her cards, Doris mutters to Ed:
DORIS:
Watch your card, honey.
CALLER:
I... sixteen...
Ed continues to gaze off at the window, smoke pluming from
his cigarette.
ED (V.O.)
I wasn't crazy about the game, but,
I don't know, it made her happy, and
CALLER:
Gee... nine...
Doris sucks in her breath.
DORIS:
Jesus, bingo--BINGO!
BARBERSHOP:
Sun slants in through the big window at the end of the day.
Ed sweeps hair trimmings, looking intently down at the floor,
a cigarette dangling from his lip. Frank sits on one of the
vinyl waiting chairs, talking at Ed's back.
FRANK:
...so you tie your own flies, Ed. I
mean, if you're really serious. You
tie your own flies, you do a--I know
it's matickless, I know, people say,
hey, you can buy flies at the store--
but you can buy your fish at the
store, Ed, you see what I'm saying?
ED:
Uh-huh.
FRANK:
The point is there's a certain art
to the process. The point is not
merely to provide, and let me point
out, these fish are not as dumb as
you might think.
ED:
Uh-huh.
FRANK:
Sportsmanship! That's my point. June
fly, Ed? Mosquito? Which of these?
Well, what fish do you seek?
ED:
Yeah.
FRANK:
Sure, go to the store. Go there,
describe to the man where you will
be fishing, and for what, and the
weather conditions, sun, no sun,
whatnot, and so forth, and then you
might as well have the man go ahead
and sell you the goddamn FISH, Ed...
We see a black-suited figure approaching through the windows
at the far end of the shop. He is almost blown out by the
late-day sunlight hitting the window.
FRANK:
...My point is, this is a man who
knows nothing no matter how much you
tell him, so sell him the goddamn
FISH, Ed.
The bell over the front door tinkles, and the swarthy middle-
aged man walks in. He is well dressed--perhaps a little too
snazzily for this small town--and has a sporty pencil
mustache.
MAN:
OK, boys, which of you gets the
privilege?
FRANK:
We're just closing, friend.
MAN:
Oh, happy days! I wish I was doing
well enough to turn away business!
More power to ya, brother! The public
be damned!
FRANK:
Hey, what's your problem, friend?
This is a business establishment
with posted hours--
Ed cuts in with a jerk of the head.
ED:
I'll take care of him, go ahead,
Frank. Have a seat, mister.
Frank looks sourly at the stranger.
FRANK:
...You sure, Eddie?
ED:
Yeah, yeah--go home.
As Frank leaves:
FRANK:
In your ear, mister.
The stranger chuckles.
STRANGER:
Oh, those fiery Mediterraneans. Say!
Not so fast there, brother--
Ed has switched on the clippers, but the stranger waves him
back; he lifts off a toupee.
STRANGER:
...Pretty good, huh? Fools even the
experts. 100 percent human hair,
handcrafted by Jacques of San
Francisco, and I'd hate to have to
tell you what I paid for it.
ED:
Uh-huh.
STRANGER:
Yes, it's a nice rug. I'm paying for
it down on the installment plan...
Ed starts to trim the stranger's fringe.
STRANGER:
...A lot of folks live with the pate
exposed. They say the dames think
it's sexy. But for my money it's
just not good grooming--and grooming,
my friend, is probably the most
important thing in business--after
personality, of course...
He twists around to offer his hand.
STRANGER:
...Creighton Tolliver, pleased to
know ya.
ED:
Ed Crane. What brings you to Santa
Rosa?
CREIGHTON:
A goose, friend. I was chasing a
wild goose. Ed, have you ever heard
of venture capital?
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"The Man Who Wasn't There" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_man_who_wasn't_there_983>.
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