When a Stranger Calls Page #6

ANGLE ON BAR:

Tracy has clammed up -- her elbows on the bar, head between

her elbows, arms covering her ears, hands clasped behind her

neck. Duncan looks at her nervously and starts to talk again:

DUNCAN:

(rapidly)

Listen, I didn't mean nothin'. I

don't live around here. See -- ?

BILL (O.S.)

I think the lady wants to be left

alone.

Duncan looks up. Bill enters the frame and stands in front

of Tracy, confronting Duncan.

CLOSEUP - DUNCAN

Looking up at Bill, his eyes red, his gaze unsteady.

WIDER ANGLE:

The air is charged with tension.

BILL:

I think an apology is in order.

Duncan doesn't know how to handle this. He looks at Bill,

half shrugs, half smiles.

BILL:

That the best you can do?

Duncan looks away. A long moment passes.

BILL:

I think you'd better just move along,

pal.

Duncan doesn't move, says nothing. He swallows hard.

HANK:

He'll be okay now, Bill. He just --

BILL:

No! I want him out of here!

The bartender steps back, deciding to mind his own business.

Tracy gets up from her seat and cautiously moves even further

down the bar.

BILL:

(to Duncan)

Go on, beat it.

They glare at each other. The longer Duncan sits there without

moving, without saying anything, the angrier Bill gets.

REACTION SHOTS:

As the tension builds.

ANGLE ON BAR:

Duncan looks away.

BILL:

I'm not going to say it again, mister.

Duncan reaches for his drink, but Bill reacts quicker. With

a swipe of his hand, he knocks the glass off the bar, and it

shatters on the floor behind the bar.

Duncan sits there, stunned, not looking up. After a long

moment, Duncan coughs. Then he turns and looks at Bill. He

purses his lips. It looks like a nervous facial movement.

Then suddenly, Duncan spits at Bill, hitting him square in

the face.

Before anyone can register what's happened, Bill lunges at

Duncan, knocking him clean off the barstool and onto the

floor.

The fight is fast, vicious and one-sided from the very start.

Pinned to the floor on his back, Duncan flails his arms

ineffectually like a panicked insect as Bill holds him in

place with a left-handed grip on the collar while his powerful

right arm, pumping up and down like a piston, pounds into

Duncan's face time and time again.

Duncan's screams diminish into pathetic, sickening groans

and the others in the bar are compelled to avert their eyes

from this brutal spectacle.

Hank has picked up a phone from beneath the bar and is dialing

a number. He turns away from the fight to talk.

Then, as suddenly as Bill first sprang at Duncan, he leaps

to his feet and turns to the bar. He reaches over and grabs

the phone from Hank, slamming it down into the cradle.

BILL:

Who're you calling?

Bill takes the cloth from the bar and vigorously wipes his

face off. He snaps his fingers and points to a row of bottles

on a shelf behind the bar. Hank quickly hands him a bottle.

Bill pours himself a shot and downs it, fast. He is still

charged with adrenaline and he takes two more shots in rapid

succession, spilling the alcohol on the bar and on himself.

As Bill picks up the cloth to wipe himself off again, Tracy

stands up and quickly walks out of the bar, slamming the

door behind her.

BILL:

(calling after her)

You're welcome, baby!

Then he throws down the cloth, picks up the bottle, turns

and, standing over Duncan's inert form, empties half the

bottle onto him. He sets the bottle back on the bar. He grabs

Duncan and, half dragging, hurries him out the back door and

throws him into the alley where Duncan falls in a heap.

Bill storms back up to the bar and pours himself another

drink.

BILL:

(to Hank)

Okay?

Hank just looks at him, doesn't answer. At the wife's silent

insistence, the elderly couple stand up to go.

OLD MAN:

Good riddance to bad rubbish, eh,

Bill?

Bill doesn't answer and the couple quietly leave.

HANK:

(apologetic)

A fight breaks out, there's gonna be

damages. Insurance company doesn't

pay without a police report...

BILL:

You see any damages?

Hank lowers his gaze to the floor. Bill finishes his drink.

He is still very hopped up. He pulls a few dollars from his

wallet and drops them on the counter.

BILL:

See ya 'round.

He turns and strides out of the bar.

CAMERA HOLDS for a beat on Hank alone now in his empty

establishment. The phone starts to ring, presumably the police

calling back.

After several rings, Hank picks up the phone and listens.

HANK:

(into phone)

No, it's over now...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. LT. GARBER'S HOUSE - NIGHT

All the lights are out inside the house, but we should just

be able to see that we are in the hall, looking at the front

door. Footsteps approach on the walk outside. A key slips

into the lock...

Inside the house we can hear faint whispering. Someone is

moving about in the darkness. Then the door swings open and

the shadowy figure of a MAN crosses the threshold. He stops

just inside.

MAN:

(calling out)

Donna. Donna! Hey!

(under his breath)

What the hell -- !

Suddenly the lights come on and a chorus of voices cry out,

"SURPRISE!"

A broad smile breaks across the man's face. We may recognize

him as the cop from six years ago -- Charles Garber. Today

he is a lieutenant on the force and dresses casually for

work, usually in slacks, turtleneck and jacket.

GARBER:

(genuinely surprised)

What is all this?!

SCATTERED VOICES

Happy birthday, Charlie!

Garber looks sheepishly at his hand holding the pistol he'd

drawn just before the lights came up.

WOMAN'S VOICE

Look at him!

MAN'S VOICE

Don't shoot us, Charlie!

GARBER:

(chagrined)

How was I supposed to know?

Everybody starts to laugh, including Garber as he returns

the pistol to his shoulder holster.

ANGLE ON DONNA:

Garber's wife. She comes out of the kitchen carrying a

birthday cake with lit candles and makes her way through the

crowd of GUESTS singing "Happy Birthday".

Everyone joins in as Donna moves forward and stands beside

her husband. Clifford is one of the guests. He has his arm

around a young BLOND who is sort of pretty despite her

tacky/plastic appearance.

When the song is over, Garber blows out the candles and hugs

and kisses his wife. Everybody cheers.

CUT TO:

INT. GARBER'S HOUSE - STAIRWAY - SEVERAL HOURS LATER

The party is still in full swing. Garber is following Clifford

up the stairs. They are both fairly loaded by now.

Garber, in particular, has reached that stage of inebriation

where standing still is pretty hard to do.

GARBER:

Will you tell me what this is about,

Cliff?

CLIFFORD:

Yeah, in a minute.

GARBER:

I don't think I can take any more of

these surprises.

INT. A BEDROOM

As Clifford and Garber enter. Garber turns on a light as

Clifford closes the door, shutting out the sounds of the

party below.

GARBER:

Okay now, what's the big deal?

CLIFFORD:

Stand still. I want you to remember

this in the morning.

GARBER:

If you want me to remember something

in the morning, then tell it to me

in the morning.

Garber half comically turns to go. Clifford stops him.

CLIFFORD:

Charlie, come on.

ANGLE ON CORNER OF BEDROOM

A BABY between a year and two years old is lying in a crib.

It opens its eyes and starts looking around.

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