Vanilla Sky Page #2

David, happy birthday.

You have got the greatest taste

in shoes, bar none anywhere.

- Emma, have you met Lynette?

- I fear what we may have in common.

David, did you invite the entire

Olympic snowboarding team?

Tonight is my birthday.

- Say happy birthday to David.

- Happy birthday.

Welcome to Graceland.

Happy birthday,

you son of a b*tch.

Happy birthday.

Hey, friends of me, hello.

-Let the fun ensue.

-Living Stereo will be on-line soon.

It is the great John Coltrane.

They would love an article on it.

If you like it,

it's an amazing prototype.

- Excuse me.

- No, no. Thank you. That's okay.

- Literary god, Brian Shelby.

- Happy birthday.

And all the usual sh*t

people say to each other--

- How you doing?

- Living the dream, baby.

- To what do I owe this pleasure?

- The pleasure of Sofia Serrano.

We met today at the library,

if you can believe that.

Sorry about my coat.

It's too big for your closet.

-We were pretending to be intellectuals.

-It's amazing. I love your coat.

I overdressed.

I mean, I underdressed.

I'll continue like you're both

actually listening to me.

Do you have another room

to put it in?

I have ceased to exist.

Madison Square Garden is nearby.

It might fit there.

Happy birthday.

- We picked it out together.

- Thank you.

We picked it out together.

- We.

- You're welcome.

Stop flirting and open it.

- Let's get a drink.

- Yes.

I'll leave this upstairs.

- I'll be right back.

- Okay.

- Listen.

- Hey, Tommy.

No, no, don't blow me off.

I'm all packed. I'm going

back to London and I understand.

You put me up for the other attorney's

job so you didn't have to fire me.

That's a classy move and your father

would have done the same.

It's okay, Tommy.

I became incompetent.

Is there anything more unbecoming

than an aging mascot?

I cared for your father.

I lived and breathed for him.

These guys, the Seven Dwarfs...

they think you're stupid--

a corporate hazard,

a rogue.

They are gonna find a way

to get you out, David.

They're lined up for your office,

your life...

They're lined up for your office,

your life...

your position.

They're working day and night...

to cheat you out

of your 51 % vote.

And they're gonna sell

this tradition of words...

so they can eat

in a better cafeteria.

But what they don't know is this.

People will read again!

I got it.

They even got a nickname for you

behind your back.

Citizen Dildo.

You got great instincts...

but I say this with complete love.

Claim your life...

learn to be an a**hole--

Two's enough.

Forgive me.

I still believe

in this family, David...

even if it's only you.

Get Tipp out of here.

Drive him home,

and in the morning...

tell him he's rehired

with a 50% raise.

Give him that big office across

the hall from the Seven Dwarfs.

And set up a meeting

with the other attorneys.

I'm gonna be in early tomorrow.

Well, earlier than usual.

Hello, handsome.

I've come to wish you

a happy birthday.

Oh, man.

I didn't invite you, Julie.

- That was a little weird.

- That's how it works with parties--

you have to be invited.

I'm mad at you, you dick.

We made love four times

the other night.

- Is that good?

- Two's good.

Three is very good.

- But four--

- Four's pretty good?

Four is--

Four is what?

Hold me, and then I'll leave.

And you can go back and talk

to that cute brunette.

Four is what?

I don't wanna meet your fancy friends.

I knew them when I was fancy too.

Four is what?

She looks like a moth.

A moth?

Sometimes I worry about you,

that some clever girl...

in a big silly coat is gonna come

along and play you just right.

Then I'll lose my friend.

And there won't be any chicken soup

parties for me and you.

Bad.

When will you call me?

Don't say "soon."

I hate it when you say "soon."

Danny Bramson gave him that

for his birthday last year.

So this is what's become

of rock and roll--

a smashed guitar behind a glass case

displayed on some rich guy's wall.

It was a gift, actually.

- I like it.

- Whoa, whoa, whoa.

So how did you

get all this stuff--

this apartment, this life?

I see.

How 'bout if you help me,

unless I'm horning in here.

- You are, but the food's good.

- I have a problem. I got a stalker.

It doesn't sound life threatening.

I need for you to pretend we are

having a scintillating conversation...

and you are wildly entertained.

- I know it's tough.

- I'll improvise.

She's across the room and burning

a hole in my back now, isn't she?

Red dress, strappy shoes?

Wow. She's really staring at you.

- Sh*t.

- And she seems to be crying.

Less happy.

I think she's the saddest girl

to ever hold a martini.

- Jennifer Kelly.

- Hi ,Jennifer.

- You have another apartment.

- Sort of a day office. Come on.

- I am not going in there.

- I am. Good night.

- I hear her coming.

- Really?

- Hi.

- How are you?

We're safe, but I've got

nothing to drink.

Who did these paintings?

This is Joni Mitchell.

This one is Monet.

And this one...

was done by me.

It is a snowboard.

Well, two of them are geniuses.

That is the real thing.

His paintbrush painted

the vanilla sky.

And his canvas.

My mother's.

- I'm surprised you're surprised.

- I can't keep this banter going.

- Me neither.

- I caught you.

Brian, come in here.

- What's going on?

- Your friends are fun and I'm drunk.

- Julie Gianni is stalking me.

- She looked dangerous.

Nobody stalks me,

so I drink.

- We're all out up here.

- Finish my Jack and Coke.

- Stupid glass.

- I got it.

- It's the stupid guy holding it.

- Don't worry. No big deal.

I'll go get us something.

Jacks and Cokes?

I better hit it. I drank

too much and I didn't eat.

- The party's just starting.

- For you it is.

You cannot go.

You are my guest of honor.

F*** you, David.

You're paying me to write my novel,

so you own me.

I don't own you. You are brilliant,

good-looking, handsome.

But why'd you have to hit

on Sofia?

- I wasn't hitting on Sofia.

- Fine. Whatever you say.

- I'm crazy. I'm blind.

- You're not blind.

You're drinking Jack and when

you do you start in with that...

Frank Sinatra,

she shot me down...

give me a cigarette

king of sad thing.

- That I do. Give me a cigarette.

- I'll find one.

Wait. You're rich and women love

you and I'm from Ohio and drunk.

- Can I tell you the truth?

- Everybody does.

I dig her.

And I've never said this to you

before about any girl...

but she could be--

could be-- could be--

could be the girl

of my f***ing dreams.

- You're not from Ohio.

- I know.

But if she fucks up our friendship,

she can go to hell.

I won't allow it.

We are bros.

- I feel the same way.

- Sure you do.

- Hi.

- How you doing?

- Thank you.

- You're welcome.

Where are you going?

I am Frank,

and Frank must go.

- What?

- I good you bid evening.

Wait. I'll go with you.

- Stay, baby.

- I'll give you a ride home later.

- No, I have to work tomorrow.

- You--

You are in great hands.

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