True Colors Page #2

when a simple appendectomy

costs $6,000.

Where does it say Congress answers

to the AMA and not to their electorate?

- I'm sorry I interrupted.

- It's all right. Go on.

People don't want

AMA deciding on health

any more than Exxon

running the Interior Department.

You ever been

on an AMA golf outing, son?

- No, Senator.

- Well, take Dr Tuck here.

He'll fix your bursitis,

sharpen up your short game,

wipe out your campaign debt

before you're off the first green.

Yes, Senator.

You're right. You're there to represent

the people who elected you.

But to do that you've got to get elected,

and that takes money.

So, every day you try to remember

where you drew the line.

- What's your name?

- Peter Burton. I'm at UVA with Tim.

- Nice to meet you, Peter.

- It's an honour.

Now that you've given me indigestion,

Burt, let's eat.

Finally! I'm starving.

You did fine. I'm John Lawry.

I'm an aide to the senator.

Peter Burton. I was just reading

your profile in the Washingtonian.

- Just?

- Just recently.

The article was in

a year and a half ago.

Some stack in the library.

You prepare for everything

the way you prepare for parties?

John, let's get something to eat.

Could you pass these around?

Peter! A special hat for you.

Looks good.

- Bathroom's there.

- Just wanted to get out of the crowd.

Have you seen Tim?

Deep into it with some guy from Justice.

That's not "some guy".

That's the Deputy Attorney General.

It's like the National Review

come to life in there.

And are you impressed by that?

Yes, I am.

- How was London?

- Oh, great. Fantastic.

- You went to school there?

- I've still got lots of friends there.

Shuttle them in for the party?

- You don't remind me of James Dean.

- What?

You remind Tim of James Dean.

If James Dean was a graduate grind.

Tim likes to make the basically boring

glamorous. No offence.

- None taken.

- There you are.

Give me the last kiss of '83.

I haven't seen that much log-rolling

since my father's poker games.

What's log-rolling?

Compromising the duties of office

under the guise of expediency.

Government by cheques and cocktails.

- A system that's worked for 200 years.

- I said nothing about your dad.

- Don't start.

- One minute to go!

- Resolutions?

- Find a good margarita in Georgetown.

- Cop out!

- You?

- Too young and powerless to mention.

- OK, next decade?

Prosecuting half the guest list.

To be in Congress within 10 years.

- That's it?

- But I mean it.

- Is this expensive?

- About $80.

I'll make a bet with you.

Election night '90. If I win,

you each owe me a bottle, by hand.

- If not?

- I'll bring you a case.

Just send mine. I won't want to be

around you the day after you lost.

Happy New Year!

Happy New Year, Pete.

Happy New Year!

My turn, Tim.

- What's wrong with this party?

- Who told you about it?

I smoked a joint with the caterer.

It's drug-induced? Can we drive

around for hours looking for a diner?

Usher in the New Year with adults

and you'll become one.

- Where is this joint?

- Over by Bridgeport.

- Here we are.

- This looks shitty.

- Let's go to Greenwich.

- It's worse.

- One drink.

- We won't stay long, I promise.

They've written "Party" three times

on the marquee. How bad can it be?

- They've clearly pulled out all the stops.

- OK, OK!

Two draughts, two shooters of Jack

and a Baileys.

- Jack?

- Yeah.

Browns for my friend.

No, Browns for my friend.

Petey Bertkowski?

Is that Petey Bertkowski?

Jesus! Out of my way!

Coming through! Out of my way!

Bertkowski! Petey Bertkowski! Jesus!

Todd!

- Short hair! It's been a long time.

- Yeah, a long time.

I saw your dad. I work for the city

and he worked with us.

A big snowstorm before Thanksgiving.

- We're just leaving.

- Seen Janine?

- I know she'll want to talk to you.

- Say hi to her...

Baby! Janine, honey!

Baby! Janine!

Come on! We're married now.

We got two kids and it's good.

Hey, Peter.

Hey, Janine. You look good.

You, too. Different.

Happy New Year.

It's good seeing you guys.

- Nice to meet you.

- Nice to meet you, too.

Happy New Year. Let's belly up here.

Couple of beers!

- Just don't judge me, OK?

- I don't even know your name.

Peter Michael Bertkowski.

Born, New Haven, March 91959,

to Mike and Irene.

The mother left when he was ten.

The father, a Cutty Sark fan,

raised the boy, working sporadically

around the holidays.

People got the charitable urge.

Where were you Christmas?

School.

- Why did you lie to me?

- I thought you wouldn't be my friend.

Why would you think that

I'd give a sh*t about stuff like that?

Most people don't see the world

with the same eyes you do.

They're not so sure who they are,

not so happy with who they are.

You don't have to lie to me.

- You don't understand, man.

- Why don't you let me try?

I'm sorry, Tim.

The thing is,

these personal traits of your father's,

some you can't stand,

these come out in you.

There's nothing you can do,

any more than you can

about getting his ears

or his hairline...

You know, last weekend, right.

Diana, little thing.

Dinner before the movie.

Turns into a fight, no other reason

than me sticking to a goddamn plan.

My father exactly.

How?

He ran his house the same way

he runs his courtroom:

Confusing stubbornness with strength.

I knew what she meant.

Got even madder denying it.

Do you have any idea

what I'm talking about?

But you don't have

to become your old man.

It's not inevitable.

Not if you fight it with everything you got.

- Hey, Tim. Timmy!

- Yeah?

- Mine came!

- You got it!

All right. OK, on three.

Good luck! One, two, three!

- OK. "Department of Justice..."

- "After a considerable number..."

- "inform you of your acceptance..."!

- "...staff of Senator James B Stiles"!

Washington!

Yes. Look around. Here we are.

A lady writes, "Dear Senator,

My Oscar is a great admirer of yours,

"and every time you come on the TV

he sits in front to watch.

"And when they applaud your speech

he barks right along."

Oscar's her f***ing dog!

Now, "Oscar has been sick.

"Could the senator find time

to have a photograph taken with him?

"It would mean so much, you know."

Don't everybody look at once.

Senator Frank Steubens with

an unidentified blonde. Laminated.

Jesus!

- Jesus!

- She's a lobbyist.

America's family man toasted

with a blonde at Wah Fong's.

I like the papers on the table.

Nice touch. Working dinner.

They're drawing up a proposal

introducing his member

into her historic chamber.

- You wished you'd said it.

- All right.

I wish Stiles was here. We got a bill

Steubens' committee's been blocking.

I'd love to see the senator march over

and lobby him with Blondie sitting there.

Why don't you do it? You're the real

brains in Stiles's office.

We know it, but Steubens doesn't yet.

- Take a vacation!

- Drink your drink!

Get him out of here.

Taxi!

We're going to Ronnie and Nancy's.

Want to come?

- Bye.

- Goodnight.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes