Ôëàã Âåëèêîáðèòàíèè Øêîëà àíãëèéñêîãî ÿçûêà îíëàéí ¹1

Ãëàâíàÿ>Êèíîñöåíàðèè>Èãðà/ The Game

Ñöåíàðèé ôèëüìà Èãðà/ The Game íà àíãëèéñêîì ÿçûêå áåñïëàòíî

Çäåñü âû ìîæåòå íàéòè ñöåíàðèé ê ôèëüìó: Èãðà/ The Game.

Èãðà/ The Game

HOME MOVIES from the 60's, SILENT and grainy:

EXT. MANSION -- DAY -- HOME MOVIES

A stately mansion. A perfect lawn. A BUTLER carries a birthday cake with sparking sparklers...

Past wealthy MEN in crewcuts and thin ties, WOMEN in cat-eye sunglasses. Everyone sings (silent) "Happy Birthday"...

CHILDREN follow the cake, in dresses and suits, gathering round NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, 7, guest of honor, who wears a blindfold. MOTHER comes to remove the blindfold and Nicholas ogles the cake, laughs. He reaches for a sparkler. STEP PRINT: Mother intercepts, fussing, fixing his hair...

Nicholas' FATHER sits near, smoking, nodding. He's intense, thin, wearing a party hat. He notcies the camera without mugging for it, bends to snuff his cigarette in an ashtray.

SPLICE-JUMP TO/STEP PRINT: a Harlequin CLOWN ties balloon animals. Nicholas assists, distracted by the inattentive children who look into the camera and pull hair and stand on their chairs...

Men are drinking, storytelling, laughing. A fraternity...

The women are elsewhere, doing movie-vamp poses for the camera, blowing cigarette smoke, brightly dressed, eyelids blue and green, lipstick perfect...

Servants clear the table. Father holds a piece of untouched cake. A man talks to him, but Father stares off, lost in thought. He's forgotten the party hat on his head...

STEP PRINT: Mother puts her arms around Father and makes him face the camera. He leans in, posing dutifully.

SPLICE-JUMP TO: a nanny in uniform, ILSA, holds an INFANT (CONRAD) to the camera, places the baby in Nicholas' arms. STEP PRINT: Nicholas is gentle, overwhelmed by cradling his tiny brother.

SPLICE-JUMP TO: children play tag. Across the lawn, Father heads to the house. He looks back, walks backwards. STEP PRINT: he gives a small wave, continuing away...

Kids chase past. Nicholas and two other kids huddle, arms locked, spinning round and round, till they stumble different directions, falling, laughing, dizzy...

Nicholas gets up, wearing a PUPPET on each hand. STEP PRINT: He walks CLOSE and peers in the camera, steps back, happily talking. We can't hear because it's SILENT...

DISSOLVE TO:

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BATHROOM -- MORNING

The emotionless face of NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, just today 40, looks upon itself in a mirror. He brings an electric shaver across his chin, shuts it off, wipes his face with a towel.

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, MASTER BEDROOM -- MORNING

Nicholas crosses. The bedroom is spacious, devoid of clutter. A weight-machine in a far corner. A big T.V. shows CNN with no sound.

At a bedside table, Nicholas picks up a heavy, gold ROLEX, sliding it on, checking the time. 6:32.

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT

Nicholas stands at the kitchen islandm his tie thrown over his shoulder, eating breakfast. ILSA, now elderly, is across the way doing dishes.

The only sounds are the tiny clicks of Nicholas' knife and fork against his plate. He's reading a German newspaper.

Nicholas jabs the last piece of egg, skewers the last bit of ham and last square of toast. Plate's clean.

He sips his last swallow of juice, dabs his mouth with a napkin, picks up his briefcase and heads to a back door.

NICHOLAS (without looking) Thank you.

ILSA Have a nice day.

EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- MORNING

Nicholas walks down a garden pathway to a three-car garage. He looks at his Rolex.

CUT TO:

INT. NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- MORNING

Bentley Continental Coupe. Quiet. Nicholas drives, begins humming, barely audible. A Prince song, "Erotic City."

NICHOLAS (sings, to self) ...until the dawn... making love till cherry's gone.. (humming, quiet) ... Erotic City, you and me...

Nicholas changes lanes, HONKING the HORN, impassive. We can BARELY HEAR the BEEPING in here. He glances back.

He drives, adjusts his mirror. Resumes humming.

CUT TO:

EXT. VAN ORTON BUILDING -- MORNING

Distinctive SAN FRANCISCO skyline on the horizon. Nicholas' building is a brownstone bookended by skyscrapers. Old money dwarfed by new. The Bentley arrives...

INT. VAN ORTON BUILDING, UNDERGROUND GARAGE -- MORNING

The Bentley moves past a valet station. One VALET follows.

The Bentley takes its place. A brass plaque reads: "NICHOLAS VAN ORTON, Van Orton Enterprises." The valet opens the car door for Nicholas.

CUT TO:

INT. VAN ORTON OFFICE -- MORNING

Two objects on Nicholas' desk: phone and laptop computer. He's on the phone, operating the laptop with one hand. Business talk, mile-a-minute.

MALE VOICE (v.o.) (from phone) ... might be perched up on majority shares, but you're not the only one who gets hurt if the actuals crash. Forecasts were fucked to begin with.

NICHOLAS (into phone) The moment Baer/Grant's P and L report is placed in my hand, I will be speed dialing your number.

Empty walls. No distractions. MARIA, the proper executive assistant, stands practically at attention.

MALE VOICE (v.o.) Is that a promise?

NICHOLAS I'm sorry... I'm unfamiliar with the term.

MALE VOICE (v.o.) What if Alan calls me with a sob story about substantiation procedure?

NICHOLAS Take evasive action: have your secretary say you're in a meeting. Goodbye, Jack.

MALE VOICE (v.o.) Yeah.

Nicholas hangs up, shuffling computer windows: stock quotes, pie-charts, graphs, lists. Maria refers to an index card.

MARIA Invitations: the Museum Gala.

NICHOLAS No.

NICHOLAS The Fitzwilliam Botanical Garden Annual Fundraiser.

NICHOLAS No.

NICHOLAS The Hinchberger wedding.

NICHOLAS Let me think... (sits back, eyes closed) Hordes of men in tuxedos. Everyone's droning. Ludwell's trying to break the ice by reciting an off-color limerick...

MARIA (impatient) I'll send your regrets. Honestly, why must I even bother?

NICHOLAS Because, if you don't know about society, you don't have the satisfaction of avoiding it.

A KNOCK and a female ASSISTANT enters. There's a lot more NOISE and ACTIVITY behind her.

ASSISTANT Elizabeth on line three.

Nicholas taps his fingers on his lips, considering.

MARIA Your ex-wife.

NICHOLAS I know who she is. (to assistant) Take a message.

ASSISTANT Um... Happy Birthday, sir.

Nicholas squints.

MARIA (icily) Thank you, Maggie.

The assistant backs out. Nicholas returns to his computer.

NICHOLAS I don't like her.

MARIA I wouldn't mention the following, except he was very insistent. It's obviously some sort of prank...

NICHOLAS What?

MARIA A gentleman left a message requesting a lunch, but I assured him...

NICHOLAS What gentleman, Maria?

MARIA A Mister... Seymour Butts.

Nicholas looks up. He sits back, lost in thought.

NICHOLAS (to himself) "Under the Bleachers"... by Seymour Butts.

MARIA Pardon me? I'm afraid I don't...

NICHOLAS Cancel lunch. Make reservations at Campton Place for me and Mr. Butts.

Maria nods, heading out, high heels clicking as she crosses.

NICHOLAS And, put the reservation in my name.

CUT TO:

INT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- DAY

Upscale. Quiet. Nicholas is in a booth facing the rear, studying a thick FINANCIAL STATEMENT, making tiny notations. A WAITRESS arrives.

WAITRESS Ready to order, sir?

NICHOLAS I'm still waiting...

Nicholas points out the other plate. The waitress leaves.

NICHOLAS Excuse me...

She returns. He slides his empty glass toward her.

NICHOLAS This was iced tea.

He's returned to his report. The waitress takes the glass and leaves, irritated. Nicholas checks his watch. An EXAGGERATED SNEEZE is HEARD and liquid hits the back of his neck -- AH-CHOO!...

Nicholas jumps, sickened, turning to face CONRAD, who holds a spray bottle and smiles.

CONRAD Hey there, Nickie.

NICHOLAS (repulsed) Conrad, what a surprise. Gesundheit.

CONRAD Happy Birthday, man.

NICHOLAS (nods) "Seymour Butts." I never get tired of that one.

CONRAD That's why it's a classic. Come on, man... how 'bout a hug... ?

Nicholas is wiping his neck with a napkin as Conrad forces a hug on him. Conrad takes a seat, good-lookingm unkempt, tan, wearing a too-big suit jacket.

CONRAD They gave me a free jacket at the door.

NICHOLAS They'll be wanting it back.

CONRAD Not after I'm done with it. (laughs) Actually, I've been here. In grad-school I bought crystal-meth from the maitre d'.

NICHOLAS Which grad-school?

Conrad smiles. The brothers take each other in for a moment. Long moment. They're a bit stunned to be reunited.

NICHOLAS You look good.

CONRAD So do you. And to think I was worried...

NICHOLAS About me?

CONRAD How long's it been? Since mom died... four years? How are you?

NICHOLAS Never better.

CONRAD Elizabeth?

NICHOLAS Divorced. Remarried to some pediatrician or gynecologist, or pediatric gynaecologist, in Sausalito.

CONRAD Too bad, I liked her. So, you're all alone in the House of Pain?

NICHOLAS I redecorated. What about you?

CONRAD Nowhere in particular. Don't you keep track of my whereabouts anymore?

NICHOLAS Connie... what brings you here? Is everything alright?

CONRAD Yeah.

NICHOLAS You need anything?

CONRAD No.

NICHOLAS Really?

CONRAD I don't need anything from you. I was laying on a beach somewhere in Spain, naked, and, it hit me -- Nickie's birthday. So, here I am, four layovers, twenty-seven hours flying and one donkey ride later. Not necessarily in that order.

Conrad drops an envelope on the table.

CONRAD For you.

NICHOLAS You shouldn't have.

Nicholas opens it, takes out a sappy, Hallmark B-day card. A BUSINESS CARD falls out. Nicholas picks it up...

CONRAD What do you get for the man who has just slightly more than everything?

The card: "Consumer Recreation Services." With a PHONE NUMBER and ADDRESS below.

CONRAD Call that number.

NICHOLAS "Consumer Recrreation Services." What, do they make golf clubs?

CONRAD Trust me. Call that number.

NICHOLAS Why?

CONRAD They make your life fun. Their only guarantee is you will not be bored.

NICHOLAS Fun?

CONRAD You've heard of it. You've seen other people having it. They're an entertainment service, but more than that.

NICHOLAS This isn't an escort service?

CONRAD It's a profound life experience.

NICHOLAS Like a stroke?

CONRAD Call them. Trust me.

The waitress shows up with Nicholas' iced tea, spills some. Nicholas blots it up with a napkin.

WAITRESS Sorry. Let me get you another napkin.

NICHOLAS I'll be fine... if we could just...

She moves off as Nicholas raises a finger to order, ignored.

CONRAD Tell me you'll call.

NICHOLAS Okay.

CONRAD Will you?

NICHOLAS I said I would...

CONRAD But, will you?

NICHOLAS Are you still on mediction?

CONRAD (taken aback) Why would you say that?

The waitress arrives.

WAITRESS Ready to order, gentlemen?

NICHOLAS (ignores, to Conrad) I didn't mean it like it sounded...

CONRAD I'm not on anything anymore. I'm not even seeing a shrink. I'm happy. (notices waitress, turning to her) Do you mind... ?!

The waitress gives him a look, leaves.

CONRAD (to Nicholas) I thought you'd like this. Best thing I ever did. If you don't want to do it, DON'T...

NICHOLAS I'll call them, okay?

CONRAD It doesn't matter...

NICHOLAS I'm going to call.

CONRAD Do it for YOU.

NICHOLAS Okay, okay... okay? (pause, studies card) I just... you know I hate surprises.

CONRAD I know...

Conrad CLINKS his fork against a glass, motioning... Behind Nicholas, WAITERS, WAITRESSES and BUS-BOYS, lying in wait, now come to SING "HAPPY BIRTHDAY."

Conrad stands, loving it. Nicholas forces a fake smile.

CUT TO:

EXT. NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT

The Bentley cruises hilly streets, ESTATES on all sides.

INT. NICHOLAS' BENTLEY -- NIGHT

Nicholas is on his CELLULAR PHONE. CLASSICAL MUSIC PLAYS.

FEMALE VOICE (v.o.) (from cellular) ... seen the profitability report. No one's happy with the numbers.

NICHOLAS (into cellular) Imagine how much MORE unhappy I am.

FEMALE VOICE (v.o.) You'll deal with Alan?

NICHOLAS Correct.

FEMALE VOICE (v.o.) Okay, Nicholas. Sleep well.

NICHOLAS I plan to.

He increases VOLUME on the CLASSICAL MUSIC, makes a turn.

He looks out his window, watching the street roll past...

FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY

SILENT, HOME MOVIE-ISH IMAGES as before: YOUNG NICHOLAS, 10, peers out from a LIMOUSINE, watching his neighborhood pass... PERIOD FASHIONS, PERIOD CARS and HOUSES...

BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY

Nicholas faces front. The Bentley comes to the formidable FRONT GATE of the mansion. The gate begins to slide open.

Nicholas stares ahead, expressionless.

FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY

The LIMOUSINE pulls up the ungated driveway. Young Nicholas emerges, carrying books, waving goodbye to the CHAUFFEUR.

Young Nicholas runs past rose bushes, heading to the house, but slows, looking up...

High up, Nicholas' FATHER, in a robe, stands on a balcony railing, looking to hte sky. He's weary, lowers his gaze...

Young Nicholas is puzzled, gives a tentative wave.

Father just stares, eyes dead, expression blank.

BACK TO SCENE, IN THE BENTLEY

Nicholas looks down, puts the car in gear and drives...

THRU THE WINDSHIELD: the Bentley's headlights sweep the stately Van Orton house.

CUT TO:

EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION, BACKYARD -- NIGHT

Nicholas exits the garage, walks up the garden path. Ahead, Ilsa's leaving through the kitchen door of the house, heading across the yard to the GUEST HOUSE.

ILSA Dinner's in the oven.

NICHOLAS Thank you. Goodnight.

At the rear door, Nicholas stops himself.

NICHOLAS Oh, I saw Conrad today.

Ilsa stops, looking back. They're far from each other.

ILSA You did? How is he?

NICHOLAS Okay. I think he's into some sort of new personal improvement cult.

ILSA (nods, at a loss) Well... send my love, if you see him again.

Nicholas nods. Ilsa leaves.

CUT TO:

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT

Nicholas uses mitts to remove a dinner plate from the oven, sets it on a waiting tray: huge cheeseburger and hand-cut french fries, perfectly presented.

Nicholas picks up a CUPCAKE with a B-day candle in it.

CUT TO:

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT

Nose-bleed-high ceilings. Cavernous fireplace. THREE TVs in the ENTERTAINMENT WALL, the largest showing CNN. Nicholas is seated in a chair facing his meal, pouring a glass of champagne.

He toasts to no one, takes a sip. The PHONE RINGS. Nicholas looks to it, hesitates. He hits SPEAKERPHONE.

NICHOLAS (to speakerphone) Elizabeth.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) (from speakerphone) Happy Birthday, Nick.

NICHOLAS (looks at watch) Eleven forty. You almost didn't make it this year.

Nicholas uses a REMOTE to MUTE BERNARD SHAW on the TV.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) Did you have a great birthday?

NICHOLAS Does Rose Kennedy have a black dress? You know my parties. I went not once, but twice through the spanking-machine.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) I can only imagine. How are you?

NICHOLAS Connie asked me the same thing today.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) Connie, really? I always liked him.

NICHOLAS Anyway...

ELIZABETH (v.o.) I just thought this... might be difficult for you.

NICHOLAS Just another birthday.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) I meant because of your father.

NICHOLAS That's right. He was forty, wasn't he? Hadn't thought about it, to tell you the truth, thanks for the reminder.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) Why do I call you... ?

NICHOLAS I honestly don't know. Listen, give my best to Doctor Mel and Rachel....

ELIZABETH (v.o.) Sue has a little brother on the way. We just did the ultrasound.

NICHOLAS No kidding? An official nuclear family. You must be pleased.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) We are. We couldn't be happier.

Nicholas smiles thinly, bored, waiting for more.

NICHOLAS Well, so... thanks for calling. I've got some work here...

ELIZABETH (v.o.) I should let you go.

NICHOLAS Take care of yourself.

ELIZABETH (v.o.) You too, Nicholas. I mean that, I really do.

NICHOLAS Um-hm. Good luck. Bye.

He PUSHES OFF the PHONE in the middle of her "goodbye." He uses the t.v. remote to give BERNARD SHAW back his VOICE.

Nicholas eats, watching the news. He takes out the business card Conrad gave him, looks at it, puts it on the table.

The card: "Consumer Recreation Services."

Nicholas sits back, chewing. He stares at the ceiling.

FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY

SILENT IMAGES: Nicholas' FATHER stands on the high balcony, as before. He looks skyward one last time, then LAUNCHES INTO SPACE... falling in EXTREME SLOW MOTION...

A head-first dive...

CUT TO:

INT. OFFICE BUILDING, 10TH FLOOR -- DAY

"DING," elevator doors open. Nicholas and TWO EXECUTIVES are talking. As PEOPLE get on, the two executives get off.

EXECUTIVE 1 We're getting off here.

Nicholas follows. He and the executives huddle nearby.

NICHOLAS (voice low) So, we understand each other?

EXECUTIVE 2 We do.

NICHOLAS Make it work on paper, and you can count on my full support.

EXECUTIVE 1 Right-o. We'll talk. Soon.

They shake. The executives walk away. Nicholas returns to elevator, pushes the button, waiting. He turns, noticing...

A massive WALL OF TRANSLUCENT GLASS marks the office of "C.R.S." Modern. Activity beyond it.

Nicholas finds this disconcerting. He takes out his wallet, digging up the C.R.S. business card, studying it... looking again to the glass facade to double check.

He looks at his Rolex.

ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE GLASS DOORS

Nicholas enters. A female RECEPTIONIST speaks into a HEADSET/PHONE. EMPLOYEES mill about. UTILITY MEN sort crawlspace wiring.

NICHOLAS (to receptionist, shows "C.R.S." card) Is this Consumer Recreation Services... ?

The reecptionist takes the card. In the b.g., JIM FEINGOLD pays a DELIVERY GUY for CHINESE FOOD.

RECEPTIONIST (into PHONE) You shouldn't feel this reflects negatively upon yourself. (to Nicholas) Just a moment. (back into phone) We hope we haven't caused you any inconvenience. Thank you for considering C.R.S.

She studies the card, hangs up and motions to Feingold, a bald, amiable engineer-type who passes with his food bag.

RECEPTIONIST Mister Feingold... could you assist this gentleman?

Feingold spins on his heels, looking, walking over with his hand out. Nicholas shakes.

FEINGOLD Jim Feingold, V.P., E.D.A. Engineering and Data Analysis.

NICHOLAS I'm not quite sure how this works. My brother...

FEINGOLD Oh, here we go...

Feingold takes the card the receptionist offers, examines it, turns it over: finds FOUR NUMBERS on the back.

FEINGOLD (of the numbers) Excellent. Let's get started.

Nicholas picks up his briefcase to follow Feingold.

INT. C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY

Big operation. Feingold leads past partitioned cubicles that seem to go on forever. C.R.S. WORKERS abound. TELEPHONE CO. WORKMEN operate on the phones.

FEINGOLD Sorry about about all the hullabaloo. We're still moving. Stick with me... I've got an office around here somewhere.

Feingold reaches open BOXES, begins collecting pages from each, loading up on all sorts of forms. he holds out his leaking, greasy food bag to Nicholas.

FEINGOLD Mind holding this... ?

Nicholas reluctantly takes it, keeping it at arms length.

INT. FEINGOLD'S OFFICE -- DAY

Feingold types at his computer. Nicholas stands, looking through the pile of forms on a clipboard.

FEINGOLD (TYPES in keyboard) V-A-N... O-R-T-O-N... (studies screen) A gift from Conrad Van Orton. Interesting...

NICHOLAS What is?

Feingold picks up his Chinese food, eats using chop-sticks. The BOX features a grinning CARTOON PANDA mascot,

FEINGOLD (still studying screen) Your brother was a client with our London branch. We do a sort of informal scoring. His numbers were outstanding. (holds up box) Sure you're not hungry at all... ? Tung Hoy, best in Chinatown...

NICHOLAS No, thank you.

FEINGOLD (eating, mouth full) You need to fill out those forms. Application, psych-tests: M.M.P.I. and T.A.T. For the financial questionnaire, don't answer anything you don't feel like. We'll run a T.R.W....

Nicholas looks through the densely written forms.

NICHOLAS (reading FORM) "I sometimes hurt small animals. True or False?" "I feel guilty when I masturbate..."

Nocholas looks up, skeptical. Feingold shrugs, embarrassed.

FEINGOLD I don't write the questions. I just review them.

NICHOLAS What's all this for?

FEINGOLD We want a sense of your overall capabilities, limitations, turn-ons, turn-offs...

NICHOLAS No, I mean, what is it FOR? What are you selling?

FEINGOLD Oh... it's a game.

NICHOLAS A game?

FEINGOLD Tailored specifically to each participant. Think of it as a great vacation, except you don't go to it, it comes to you.

NICHOLAS What kind of vacation?

FEINGOLD It's different every time.

NICHOLAS (patience waning) Humor me with specifics.

FEINGOLD We provide whatever's lacking.

NICHOLAS And if nothing's lacking?

FEINGOLD May I make two suggestions... ?

NICHOLAS Do you really expect me to participate without knowing a single thing?

FEINGOLD First, admit to yourself that it sounds intriguing. Second, you don't have to decide today. Take the silly tests, fill out the forms. One day, the game begins. You either love it or hate it. Decide then. We're like an experimental Book-of-the-Month- Club; drop out at any time with no further obligation. (smiles) That was my sales pitch.

Nicholas thumbs thru the forms one last time...

NICHOLAS How long will these take?

FEINGOLD An hour for those... maybe another for the physical.

NICHOLAS Physical?

FEINGOLD Cursory examination. Turn-your-head- and-cough sort of thing. You'll be out of here in no time.

Feingold takes out a ballpoint pen, clicks it and offers it to Nicholas. Nicholas takes it.

On the pen, in tiny letters: the C.R.S. LOGO.

CUT TO:

TESTING MONTAGE -- VARIOUS C.R.S. OFFICES -- DAY

- Nicholas fills out an APPLICATION of endless questions.

- A #2 pencil fills in circles on a long M.M.P.I. form. CLOSE ON: "I often feel someone is following me. True/False." "I hate vegetables. True/False." "Vegetables hate me. True/False."

- WHITE ROOM. A stone-faced PSYCHOLOGIST holds up CARDS. Nicholas gives his unenthusiastic interpretation into a TAPE RECORDER, checks his Rolex.

One CARD shows a large ant in an apron feeding a TV dinner to a human child. That card is replaced by another of a man slipping head over heels on a banana peel.

- Nicholas wears HEADPHONES, facing a TECHNICIAN, raising a finger on his left fist or right fist for each low BEEP. Nicholas sighs, can't believe he's doing this.

INT. C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- MONTAGE CONTINUES

Electronic MONITORS and PRINTERS record Nicholas' EEG and EKG. He's on an exam table, wearing a paper gown, covered in SENSORS and WIRES, talking on a C.R.S. telephone.

NICHOLAS (into phone) ... cancel. Push Cooper back to Wednesday afternoon.

A TECHNICIAN studies readouts. A NURSE takes BLOOD PRESSURE.

MARIA (v.o.) (from phone) Mister Sutherland called about Baer/Grant Publishing.

NICHOLAS (into phone) Tomorrow. Hold on... (to NURSE) How much longer?

NURSE Almost done.

NICHOLAS I heard that two hours ago.

The nurse smiles, pumping up the blood-pressure cuff. Nicholas returns to the phone.

- DARK ROOM. Images FLASH on a screen: SHAPES, CURSE WORDS, PICTURES of U.S. PRESIDENTS, INSECTS...

In flickering light, Nicholas, still in his gown, watches with THREE BUTTONS before him, pushing one from time to time. Frustrated, he looks around. He stands and turns...

Directly into the projector's bright BEAM OF LIGHT.

NICHOLAS Hello... ? Anyone there? (squints, holds up hand) Hello?!

CUT TO:

INT. C.R.S. OFFICES, EXAM ROOM -- DAY

Nicholas dresses, alone, pulling up his pants. He notices above: a MIRRORED DOME in the corner, obviously a camera.

Nicholas pulls on his jacket as Feingold arrives.

FEINGOLD Sorry to keep you waiting.

NICHOLAS Don't worry. It's been terrific spending the entire day with your "crack team".

FEINGOLD It's all down to this...

Feingold holds out a CLIPBOARD with PAPERWORK in it. Nicholas takes it, studies it, wary.

FEINGOLD An insurance company requirement. It states that you are aware "the game" exists and that you are a willing participant in said game, so on and so forth.

Nicholas flips a page and Feingold leans over, pointing.

FEINGOLD (of the paperwork) One guarantee. Payment's entirely at your brother's discretion and, as a gift, dependent on your satisfaction.

NICHOLAS (still reading) You mean, I don't like it, he doesn't pay?

FEINGOLD It's never happened. We've never had an unsatisfied customer.

NICHOLAS You mean, dissatisfied.

FEINGOLD (glances at form) That's right -- you're a left-brain word fetishist.

Nicholas uses the C.R.S. pen to sign. Feingold turns pages.

FEINGOLD Initials... initials, and... (another page) Sign here.

Nicholas is about to sign when Feingold grabs his wrist...

FEINGOLD In blood. (laughs) Just kidding.

Nicholas signs. Feingold tears out a few PINK TINTED COPIES and hands them to Nicholas, kind of in a hurry now.

FEINGOLD Your copies, thank you. Keep the pen. We'll let you know.

Feingold exits, gives a thumbs-up and a WINK, shuts the door. Nicholas is a bit bewildered. He continues dressing.

NICHOLAS (muttering to self) ... grown man just winked at me.

INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, RACQUETBALL COURT -- NIGHT

WHAM! -- a blue racquetball BALL SLAMS a wall...

THRU A WINDOW: Nicholas plays, alone, sawtting violently at the ball. We HEAR a PHONE CONVERSATION in VOICE OVER:

CONRAD (v.o.) What about Monday or Tuesday?

NICHOLAS (v.o.) Bad for me.

CONRAD (v.o.) How 'bout tonight?

NICHOLAS (v.o.) Unfortunately I'm working all evening. Wednesday's the only possibility right now...

CONRAD (v.o.) Okay.

NICHOLAS (v.o.) Dinner?

CONRAD (v.o.) Fine. I get to pick the restaurant.

NICHOLAS (v.o.) By the way, I went to C.R.S...

CONRAD (v.o.) Really? What'd you think?

NICHOLAS (v.o.) They seemed disorganized.

Nicholas finishes playing, exits. The ball keeps bouncing.

CONRAD (v.o.) Well, the office is new. When I did it in London, they'd been around awhile. You gonna do this?

NICHOLAS (v.o.) Haven't decided yet.

CUT TO:

INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, LOCKER ROOM -- NIGHT

Carpeted floors and mahogany lockers. Nicholas sits at his locker, wet, in a monogrammed robe, toweling his hair. VOICES can be HEARD O.S.: BUSINESSMAN 1 and BUSINESSMAN 2.

BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.) ... getting in on the ground floor of the next Disneyland.

BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.) C.R.S. will not go public. They're family owned.

BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.) Stranger things have happened.

BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.) No, they haven't, actually.

Nicholas leans to look around a locker. Businessman 1 and 2 dress, two fat-cats. Nicholas leans back, still listening.

BUSINESSMAN 1 (o.s.) They just opened here.

BUSINESSMAN 2 (o.s.) The game in San Francisco? You see, they're doing fine without any of us.

INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, LOUNGE/BAR -- NIGHT

Nicholas enters, looking around, spotting Businessman 1 and 2 across the room. He gets the BARTENDER'S attention, motioning to the businessmen.

NICHOLAS New members?

BARTENDER I believe so, sir.

NICHOLAS This round's on me.

Nicholas moves casually toward the men...

INT. ATHLETIC CLUB, BAR/LOUNGE -- TIME CUT

LATER. Another round arrives at the table where Nicholas and Businessman 1 and 2 chat. The businessmen smoke cigars.

BUSINESSMAN 1 ... last time I played Pebble, I swore I'd never pick up a club again.

NICHOLAS Speaking of games... I couldn't help but overhear you talking about C.R.S.

Businessman 1 and 2 share a furtive glance. Nicholas discretely waves cigar smoke out of his face.

NICHOLAS I only mention it because I took the test this afternoon, down on Montgomery Street.

BUSINESSMAN 2 Did you? Kudos.

BUSINESSMAN 1 So, yours hasn't started?

NICHOLAS Not yet. I was hoping you could tell me... uh... (almost embarrassed) What is it?

Businessman 1 and 2 smile. Shared enlightenment.

BUSINESSMAN 1 (to Businessman 2, knowingly) Ahh, what is it?

BUSINESSMAN 2 The eternal question.

BUSINESSMAN 1 (to Nicholas) I envy you. I wish I could go back and do it for the first time all over again...

He raises his glass. They toast.

BUSINESSMAN 1 Here's to... new experiences. (gulps drink) If you'll excuse me, I've got to be going. 'Night, Jon... Nicholas.

He leaves. Nicholas focuses on Businessman 2.

NICHOLAS Did you play recently?

BUSINESSMAN 2 Hm? No, about a year ago. I was working out of Los Angeles.

NICHOLAS (nodding) I've heard good things about their London branch. (leans in) You have to admit, it sounds like some fantasy, role-playing nonsense.

BUSINESSMAN 2 You want to know what it is? What it's all about? (off Nicholas' nod) John. Chapter nine. Verse twenty-five.

NICHOLAS I, uh... haven't been to Sunday school in years...

BUSINESSMAN 2 "Whereas once I was blind, now I can see." (rises) Night, Nick. Best of luck.

Businessman 2 puffs his cigar, walks away. Nicholas watches him go, then pauses, puzzled, mouthing the words to himself.

CUT TO:

INT. LAW FIRM, CONFERENCE ROOM -- DAY

A table of unhappy LAWYERS. Nicholas goes thru a thick CONTRACT with a red pen, CIRCLING, CROSSING-OUT and SCRAWLING QUESTION MARKS ON paragraphs that displease him.

SUTHERLAND, trust personified, in his late 50's, stands behind Nicholas, imperturbable.

NICHOLAS (still scrawling) As far as I'm concerned... (reading, x-ing out) ... if the Baer/Grant meeting does not take place tommorow, it might as well never take place at all.

Nicholas slides the contract to the center of the table.

SUTHERLAND When Mr. Van Orton boards his plane in the morrow, he will have every contract, side agreement and addendum, the complete closing package, flawlessly revised.

INSTANT UPROAR as the contract is grabbed up. All the lawyers talk at once, fearful, arguing, protesting.

SUTHERLAND Ladies and gentlemen... (as they quiet) This is why you're paid twice what you deserve. So you will miss another opera you would've fallen asleep during anyway...

During this, Nicholas' CELLULAR PHONE is HEARD RINGING. Nicholas takes it out, irritated.

SUTHERLAND The meeting has been moved forward. It affords you the opportunity to show our client how well you will rise to his exhilarating challenge.

QUIET COMMOTION resumes as Nicholas takes his cellular phone to a corner, answering impatiently:

NICHOLAS (into cellular) Yes?

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) (from cellular) Nicholas van Orton?

NICHOLAS Yes, who is this?

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) This is Cynthia calling from C.R.S...

NICHOLAS How did you get this number?

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) We've finished processing your application...

NICHOLAS I'm in a meeting...

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) ... I'm afraid your application was rejected.

NICHOLAS (pause) Pardon me?

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) You shouldn't feel this reflects negatively upon yourself. We hope we haven't caused you any inconvenience...

NICHOLAS This is absurd...

WOMAN'S VOICE (v.o.) Thank you for thinking of C.R.S.

CLICK -- she's hung up. Nicholas folds the phone and pockets it, his mind suddenly far away from the meeting behind him. Sutherland steps close, concerned, quiet...

SUTHERLAND Anything wrong... ?

NICHOLAS Nothing. Nothing at all.

CUT TO:

EXT. FINANCIAL DISTRICT STREETS -- NIGHT

Nicholas guides the Bentley down streets lined with skyscrapers, staring ahead. A previous PHONE CONVERSATION is HEARD in V.O., a PHONE RINGING... RINGING... RINGING...

SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.) Would you like voice-mail?

NICHOLAS (v.o.) I suppose.

SWITCHBOARD OPERATOR (v.o.) I'll connect you. Thank you for calling the Four Seasons.

EXT. NICHOLAS' NEIGHBORHOOD -- NIGHT

The Bentley heads towards home. The V.O. PHONE CONVERSATION CONTINUES uninterrupted, CLICKING, then...

CONRAD'S VOICE (v.o.) (voice-mail recording) This is Conrad. Leave a message.

NICHOLAS (v.o.) (waits till after BEEP) Connie, it's Nicholas. Give me a ring when you get a chance...

INT. BENTLEY -- NIGHT

The Bentley reaches the VAN ORTON GATES, which open slow. V.O. CONVERSATION CONTINUES:

NICHOLAS (v.o.) About your birthday gift. Things are tight right now. I'm just not sure whether it'll fit my schedule. Anyway, see you at dinner tomorrow.

The PHONE is HEARD DISCONNECTING.

EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT

The Bentley's headlights sweep the front of the Van Orton house. There's something there, on the ground...

INSIDE THE BENTLEY

Nicholas stops the car, peering ahead, worried...

THRU THE WINDSHIELD: A BODY lies face down on the edge of the driveway.

FLASHBACK/GRAINY HOME MOVIES -- 1960'S -- DAY

The BODY of Nicholas' FATHER, sprawled face-down, in nearly the same place, head twisted, mouth bloody.

BACK TO SCENE

Nicholas gets slowly out of the Bentley, reluctant.

NICHOLAS Hello! What are you doing there? (no reaction) Wonderful...

Nichoals CLAPS his hands. The body doesn't stir. Nicholas look all directions, then approaches.

NICHOLAS Are you okay?

Nicholas nudges the body with his foot. He crouches, confused, turning the limp body. It's a grotesque HARLEQUIN, not unlike the clown from Nicholas' seventh birthday, with a shiny face of painted wood.

Nicholas looks around for an explanation.

CUT TO:

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, FOYER -- NIGHT

The front door opens. Nicholas enters with the Harlequin, depositing it on a hallway BENCH.

A half-inch of RED RIBBON sticks out from the Harlequin's lips. Nicholas tugs the ribbon... pulling out a GOLD KEY tied to the other end.

Three letters embossed on the key: "C.R.S."

CUT TO:

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, DEN -- NIGHT

Nicholas sits with his evening's meal, examining the key. CNN on TV. He looks across the room to the couch where the Harlequin is slumped staring back.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) (from television) ... according to Nicholas Van Orton, millions of Americans will be affected by this legislation.

Nicholas hears this vaguely in the back of his mind, looks to the TV. BERNARD SHAW has moves on to the next story.

Nicholas goes to the Harlequin, opening its hinged mouth, attempting to look inside. He gets a knife from his tray, uses it to probe the Harlequin's mouth, jabbing, prying.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) ... number of criminals behind bars growing by record numbers, with Van Orton pointing the finger at stiff, anti-crime regulations...

Nicholas looks up. He heard that. He walks toward the TV. Bernard Shaw is reporting, nothing strange.

Nicholas waits. Nothing. He walks away...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) ... largest portion of population incarcerated. These figures were given at a press conference called toady by Mr. Nicholas Van Orton.

Nicholas turns, disbelieving. Bernard Shaw apparently looks out FROM THE TELELVISION, perturbed...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) You going to spend the rest of the evening prying at that clown's mouth?

NICHOLAS (dumbfounded) I... I don't...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) It's frustrating for me if you don't even pretend to pay attention.

NICHOLAS What is this... ?

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) This is your game, Nicholas, and welcome to it. I'm here to let you in on a few ground rules...

Bernard Shaw's FACE RIPPLES and GLITCHES occasionally, revealing its true, computer-generated nature.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) You've received the first key and others will follow. You never know where you'll find them, or when or how you'll need to use them, so keep your eyes open.

NICHOLAS (waves his hand) How do you... ? You can see me?

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) I see you, I hear you. Why don't we save the questions till...

NICHOLAS How does this work?

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) There's a tiny camera looking at you right now.

NICHOLAS That's impossible.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) You're right. Impossible. You're having a conversation with your television.

Nicholas touches the TV, feeling the seams.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) It's miniaturized.

Nicholas begins poking his butter knife between slots of the television's speaker, stabbing, poking...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) Do you know how dangerous that is?

Nicholas pries at the plastic speaker cover. It's not easy, but he's determined, cracking the plastic...

ILSA (o.s.) Mister Van Orton... ?

The speaker cover breaks off with a SNAP! and Nicholas spins, holding the broken piece.

NICHOLAS Yes... Ilsa, what is it?

ON T.V., Bernard Shaw grabs up pages, resumes...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) ... and in other news, auto workers vowed to remain on picket lines...

Ilsa's in the doorway, wondering.

ILSA Is everything alright?

NICHOLAS Fine.

ILSA I've finished for the evening. Will you be needing anything else?

NICHOLAS No, thank you. Goodnight.

ILSA Goodnight then.

She leaves. Nicholas throws the piece of television away. Bernard Shaw stops reading now that the coast is clear.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) Who was that?

NICHOLAS Never mind who that was.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) You're uncomfortable. You want to know how a camera got into your home, don't you?

NICHOLAS Yes, I do.

ON TELEVISION: Bernard Shaw is REPLACED by a FISH-EYED IMAGE of NICHOLAS' DEN. It shows Nicholas from behind.

The P.O.V. is not from the TV. Nicholas crosses the room, keeps his eye on the TV as a guide...

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) (from t.v., o.s.) ... cold... cold... warmer... warmer...

ON TELEVISION: Nicholas gets bigger as he gets closer to...

The Harlequin. Nicholas leans, looks at the clown's eyes...

ON TELEVISION: Nicholas' face is huge, distorted.

Nicholas pries one of the Harlequin's glass eyes with his knife, pulling it out and examining it.

ON TELEVISION: The Harlequin's P.O.V. turns to STATIC. Bernard Shaw returns with a PHONE NUMBER SUPERIMPOSED.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) Write this number down. It's a 24-hour Consumer Recreation Services hotline, for emergencies only.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) But, don't call asking what the object of the game is; figuring that out is the object of the game.

Nicholas feels his pockets, finds the C.R.S. pen. He comes up with a VALET PARKING TICKET to scrawl the number on.

BERNARD SHAW (v.o.) Good luck and congratulations on choosing C.R.S. We now return you to your regularly scheduled program...

STATIC and SNOW, then CNN's Bernard Shaw is back for real, newscasting. Nicholas reads the number he wrote.

CUT TO:

EXT. VAN ORTON MANSION -- NIGHT

Nicholas crouches at a coaxial CABLE LINE at the side of the house. He fingers a BOX with a miniature LOOP and RABBIT EAR ANTENNA that's been spliced into the line.

He starts to unscrew it... then thinks twice. He leaves it.

INT. VAN ORTON MANSION, KITCHEN -- NIGHT

Nicholas enters thru the back door. He pauses, looking out at the night. He closes the door and locks it. He PUNCHES the ALARM CODE into a KEYPAD.

Nicholas takes his Bentley key chain from its hook, takes out the gold, "C.R.S." key... adding it to the keychain.

CUT TO:

INT. SAN FRANCISCO INTERNATIONAL AIRPORT -- DAY

Nicholas enters the vast, busy terminal, briefcase in hand. He walks with purpose, but is extra-aware of the world around him. He notices...

A MAN and WOMAN engaged in a SIGN LANGUAGE conversation.

A MAN reading a newspaper peers from behind the pages.

A JANITOR opens a door with a big KEY CHAIN full of keys.

A MAN on a payphone seems to be staring at Nicholas...

Nicholas turns his head to keep an eye on the man, practically bumping into a grimy HOMELESS BUM...

HOMELESS BUM Help me out there? Used to be an affluent fella, till some folks did this to me...

Nicholas moves away, leaving the homeless man behind.

HOMELESS BUM Don't ignore me. I got screwed.

INT. AIRPORT, RED CARPET LOUNGE -- DAY

Quiet MUSIC. Rich people's lounge. Nicholas sits with a cup of coffee, considering magazines on a coffee table. Two seats down, a BUSINESSMAN coughs and rises, leaving his newspaper on the empty seat between Nicholas and himself.

Nicholas glances down, curious when he sees... A smiling-clown-face INFANT'S RATTLE on the seat beside, sticking out from under the paper.

Nicholas catches only a glimpse of the exiting businessman. Nicholas looks around, picks up the rattle.

He rattles it, studies it, rattles it in his ear. He tries to see thru it by holding it up to the light. He doesn't notice the MOTHER who enters with a baby, watching him.

MOTHER Excuse me...

Nicholas looks up, realizes, awkward, offering the rattle. She takes it and exits.

There's a BESPECTACLED MAN watching Nicholas.

Nicholas notices, tries to ignore.

But, bespectacled man is really staring.

NICHOLAS (sits forward, fed up) May I help you... ?

Nicholas' tone has turned other heads. Bespectacled man seems embarrassed, shy, taps his chest.

NICHOLAS What... ? What is it?

Bespectacled man taps his chest again, points at Nicholas.

Nicholas looks down. Inside his suit jacket -- a huge blue INK STAIN across his shirt. Nicholas stands, aghast, taking out the offending pen.

It's the "C.R.S." pen, dripping ink.

INT. AIRPORT, BATHROOM -- DAY

Running water. Nicholas tries to clean his shirt, blotting it ineffectually with wet paper towels. he looks in the mirror, crestfallen. The stain's worse.

DEEP VOICE (o.s.) Hey, buddy... you still out there?

Nicholas looks around. He's alone, except for a MAN in a TOILET STALL. All we see are the man's brown shoes.

DEEP VOICE (o.s.) (from toilet stall) I'm in a little bit of trouble...

The man's hairy hand motions from below the stall. Nicholas backs away, nervous, grabs his briefcase.

DEEP VOICE (o.s.) I need paper. There's none in here. Come on, help a guy out...

Nicholas considers, then hurries to exit.

DEEP VOICE (o.s.) Hello?! Anybody? Hello?

INT. AIRPORT, METAL DETECTORS -- DAY

Nicholas' briefcase rides into the x-ray machine.

Nicholas drops his keys, cellular phone and Rolex in a tray. He passes thru the metal detector. A SECURITY GUARD brings the tray to him.

SECURITY GUARD Nice watch.

Nicholas smiles tolerantly, collects his belongings. He waits at the x-ray conveyor belt, which is stopped. A FEMALE GUARD studies the x-ray monitor.

NICHOLAS Is there a problem?

The female guard looks up, turns the conveyor belt back on. Nicholas' briefcase arrives.

Nicholas moves on, aggravated. Ahead, Sutherland rises from a seat along the concourse hallway, walking to meet him.

NICHOLAS I wasn't expecting you.

SUTHERLAND Wanted to wish you luck. Not that you'll need it.

Sutherland offers the contract, points to Nicholas' shirt.

SUTHERLAND Attractive...

NICHOLAS (paging thru contract) Don't ask.

SUTHERLAND I checked it personally.

Nicholas nods, props his briefcase up on a window ledge, opens it and drops the contract in.

CUT TO:

EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- DAY

Nicholas' jet touches down.

EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT, LOADING ZONE -- DAY

Nicholas follows a CHAUFFEUR. The chauffeur opens a LIMO door. Several pressed SHIRTS hang waiting.

EXT. BAER/GRANT BUILDING -- DAY

In the shadow of the Baer/Grant Publishing offices, the limousine idles. Downtown Seattle.

INT. BAER/GRANT PUBLISHING, ALAN BAER'S OFFICE -- DAY

Meet ALAN BAER, elderly CEO, blue-blooded, pissed.

ALAN BAER All these years... the first time ever you step foot in these offices, it's to ask me to step down?

Nicholas stands by CHILDREN'S TEXT BOOK mock-ups. "Math- Magic." "Wonder-Words." They're "Little Baer Books."

NICHOLAS You promised you'd meet projections, Alan. A dollar sixty per share you said. So, I don't think this is so surprising a visit.

ALAN BAER Projections were far too optimistic.

NICHOLAS Admittedly...

ALAN BAER Our E.P.S. was one fifty last quarter. We're up eight cents per share.

NICHOLAS But, the expectation was ten. And, in this case, expectation is everything.

ALAN BAER Will you really hold me to it over pennies?

NICHOLAS My stock's falling. Isn't yours? Those pennies are costing me millions.

ALAN BAER The stock will turn.

NICHOLAS It probably will. In fact, I'd go so far as to say it almost certainly will, in time. Why should I settle for that?

ALAN BAER Because it's fair. Give me next quarter. If you still feel this way, vote your shares...

NICHOLAS You're talking tomorrow. Today is what counts.

ALAN BAER You intractable son-of-a-bitch. If your father could see you now...

NICHOLAS What?

ALAN BAER Your father was a friend. Goddamn it... I watched you grow up. How do you end up treating me like this?

This swings Nicholas into a new mode: acutely-focused anger.

NICHOLAS It is so very inappropriate for you to mention my father. Or, did you think this, between us, was friendship? Just because you went fishing with my father, I should sit on my hands while you throw my money away?

ALAN BAER Now, look...

NICHOLAS (holds up his hand) I'll be done in a minute. You misspoke before. You're not "stepping down." I'm taking you out at the knees. The whole point is to prove that you're not deciding anything anymore. I'm firing you. Action's taken. Confidence restored. Stock goes up. I sell my shares.

ALAN BAER There is no Baer/Grant Publishing without Alan Baer.

NICHOLAS Remember Daniel Grant? Do they say, "without Daniel Grant, there is no Baer/Grant Publishing?" He's gone sailing, Alan. He's out there enjoying his golden years, probably wondering where you are.

At Alan's desk, Nicholas clears a space for his briefcase.

NICHOLAS You made a promise. You failed. The severance I'm offering is more than equitable. Valid tonight only. (looks at watch) For one hour.

Nicholas takes a pen from a holder, lays it on the blotter.

NICHOLAS I'll step outside, so you'll have the privacy you need to read and sign it.

He tries to unlatch his briefcase clasp. It's stuck.

ALAN BAER I could fight you on this.

NICHOLAS You could. But, if I leave without your signature, this agreement begins to disintegrate; benefits shrink, options narrow, compensations shrivel.

Nicholas works on the briefcase the whole time, distraction growing as it becomes a true struggle.

NICHOLAS So... it is in your best interest... to sign presently.

Nicholas sits, pulling the latch, trying to see what's jammed. It refuses to open. Nicholas stares at it, frustrated, then... an odd realization...

He takes his keys out, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it...

It doesn't fit. It was never meant for this lock. Alan Baer watches, wondering.

Forgetting himself, Nicholas grabs up the briefcase, pulling, grunting, desperate, striking it with his palm.

Nicholas straightens, immediately composed.

NICHOLAS Well... as luck would have it, you've just gotten a reprieve, I'm sure you'll come around to my way of thinking. (picks up briefcase) I have a plane to catch. My attorneys will contact you.

Nicholas exits. Alan Baer doesn't know quite what to think.

CUT TO:

EXT. SEATTLE AIRPORT TERMINAL -- DAY

On the sidewalk, Nicholas bashes his briefcase over and over again against a fire hydrant.

EXT. SAN FRANCISCO AIRPORT, RUNWAY -- SUNSET

Nicholas' jet touches down.

INT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT

Nicholas sits staring. His battered briefcase is near. He checks his watch, impatient, flags down a WAITER...

NICHOLAS Is there a message up front from a Conrad Van Orton?

The waiter goes. Nicholas drums his fingers. He slides out of the booth, rising. when a WAITRESS knocks into him with a tray. Wine spills. Glasses crash.

WAITRESS Oh, excuse me...

Nicholas looks down at his wine-stained front. The waitress is CHRISTINE, same waitress as the other night. She tries to clean him up with a napkin.

CHRISTINE I'm so sorry.

NICHOLAS Please, don't do that...

Nicholas snatches the napkin from her, wiping his suit.

CHRISTINE I apologize, sir, I'm having a bad day...

NICHOLAS A bad month. You did the exact same thing to me last week.

Christine's taken aback.

NICHOLAS Don't help me, just get more napkins. And soda water.

CHRISTINE (gets more napkins) It was an accident.

NICHOLAS Terrific. I now have a hundred dollar dry cleaning bill.

CHRISTINE I said I was sorry...

Nicholas turns his back on her, throwing wet napkins, picking up clean ones, still patting at the stain.

CHRISTINE (stews) Asshole.

Nicholas turns, angry. The MAITRE D' arrives, shocked.

MAITRE D' Christine! Mister Van Orton is a valued customer...

CHRISTINE Then, you kiss his ass.

She's leaving, but the maitre d' pulls her aside.

MAITRE D' You don't talk to me like that.

CHRISTINE (quiet, evenly) I apologized, I offered to help.

MAITRE D' Clean out your locker.

CHRISTINE Fine, Dennis. Soon as I get my money for this week.

MAITRE D' I'll be right with you.

Christine heads to the back. The maitre d' motions for BUS BOYS to clean, smoothly guiding Nicholas to a new table...

MAITRE D' I'm terribly sorry, Mr. Van Orton. If you're not too uncomfortable, will this table suit you for a complimentary meal... ?

NICHOLAS Yes. Fine.

MAITRE D' I'll fetch your waiter.

Nicholas sits, keeps wiping his shirt as the maitre d' hurries away. After a moment, a uniformed WAITER moves past, leaves a CHECK...

WAITER Check, sir.

Nicholas picks up the check, indignant.

NICHOLAS Excuse me...

But, the waiter is long gone. Nicholas shakes his head, then the check catches his eye... "DON'T LET HER GET AWAY" scrawled across it.

Nicholas turns to look. The waiter who brought the check crosses the room, goes out the front door.

Nicholas rises, following...

EXT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- NIGHT

Nicholas comes out the front, sees: the waiter has crossed the street, still moving...

The waiter gets in a CAR as the car pulls quickly away.

Nicholas is baffled, looks at the check, heads back inside.

EXT. ALLEY, BEHIND RESTAURANT -- NIGHT

Christine exits the kitchen door, purse over her shoulder.

CHRISTINE (back to doorway) Yeah... ? Well, fuck you and your vichyssoise, prick.

She heads down this dark alley. After a moment, Nicholas follows, hurrying to catch up, briefcase in hand.

NICHOLAS Pardon me... Miss... ?

CHRISTINE Oh, no... you.

Christine picks up the pace.

NICHOLAS I'm not sure how this works. Do you have something for me... ? I got this note...

CHRISTINE What are you babbling about, psycho?

NICHOLAS I want to know what's going on. Are you part of this?

CHRISTINE What's going on? I'm going on my second job this month, and now I'm going on unemployment.

She keeps walking. Nicholas stops, ponders. He follows. They're nearing the end of the alley.

NICHOLAS Excuse me, I need to explain...

CHRISTINE Don't explain. Fuck off. Goodbye.

Nicholas steps in a deep, splattering pot-hole, stumbles, pants soaked, stopping, fed up.

NICHOLAS Son of a bitch!

Christine rounds the corner, heading down the street. Nicholas reaches the sidewalk, watches her go.

NICHOLAS (shouts after) I'm trying to... ask you... (giving up) I'm apologizing...

He heads back the way he came. A strangled CRY is HEARD. Nearby, a HEAVY MAN falls to his knees, then falls face forward to the concrete. Nicholas looks around, alone...

NICHOLAS (to Heavy Man) Are... are you okay?!

DOWN THE SIDEWALK, Christine slows, looks back...

Nicholas bends, trying to see the man's face, seems afraid to actually touch him.

NICHOLAS Jesus... this can't be...

Nicholas looks up to see Christine running back.

CHRISTINE What's with him?

NICHOLAS I don't know... he fell.

Christine kneels, turns Heavy Man on his side and feels for a pulse. Heavy Man convulses.

CHRISTINE Do you know what to do?

NICHOLAS I don't think he's breathing.

Christine clears Heavy Man's airway, pulling saliva and mucus from his mouth with two fingers.

NICHOLAS Oh, God... !

CHRISTINE Don't just stand there, get help!

NICHOLAS (taking out his CELLULAR) This can't be real...

CHRISTINE He's pissing his pants. Is that real enough for you? Call 911!

NICHOLAS Alright... okay...

CHRISTINE He's turning blue!

Nicholas is starting to believe, dialing, circling as Christine gives C.P.R. He listens to his phone -- STATIC.

NICHOLAS Damn...

He backpedals in the street, cellular to his ear, trying to catch a signal, tilst his head. STATIC. A HORN BLARES -- a CAR barely misses Nicholas, DRIVER cursing.

Nicholas anxiously punches buttons. He spots a SQUAD CAR and runs toward it...

NICHOLAS Police!

SAME STREET -- TIME CUT...

SIREN BLASTING, an AMBULANCE is parked. PARAMEDICS pull a stretcher, helped by TWO COPS, hurrying to the prone Heavy Man. A crowd is gathered.

Nicholas and Christine watch the paramedics work. COP ONE hands Nicholas a clipboard, everything hurried, overlapped:

COP ONE You have to fill these out.

NICHOLAS I don't know this man.

Christine takes the clipboard.

CHRISTINE (to cop, of clipboard) What do you need... ?

Paramedics hoist heavy Man on a stretcher and take him to the ambulance. Cop Two goes to help them lift.

NICHOLAS (to Christine) I can't get involved in this.

Christine moves to climb into the ambulance.

COP TWO (to Nicholas) We'll have to detain you.

COP ONE Report's got to be filled out. Ride with your wife. We'll meet at the hospital.

PARAMEDIC (shouting to cop) We're moving!

Cop One leads Nicholas to the ambulance.

NICHOLAS She's not my wife.

COP ONE It's a few blocks. Help me out, huh, pal?

Nicholas reluctantly gets in.

EXT. CITY STREETS -- NIGHT

Busy streets. The ambulance rockets on...

INT. AMBULANCE -- NIGHT

SIREN WAILING. Paramedic works. Christine fills out forms. Nicholas tries to see where they're going, frustrated.

NICHOLAS This is nuts.

CHRISTINE (without looking up) What is your problem?

NICHOLAS (digging in his pocket) Ten minutes ago, I'm looking forward to a quiet dinner. I get a note...

Nicholas slaps his CHECK on top of Christine's paperwork.

NICHOLAS Suddenly I'm in an ambulance. Why am I in an ambulance?!

He looks out the window. Christine studies the check: "DON'T LET HER GET AWAY," finds it odd, looks to Nicholas.

NICHOLAS (wincing, to paramedic of Heavy Man) He's breathing, isn't he? Is the siren entirely necessary?

INT. UNDERGROUND PARKING ENTRANCE -- NIGHT

"Emergency Vehicles Only." The ambulance races down a RAMP, moving across this big underground garage, doing a u-turn...

Backs up toward a busy EMERGENCY ROOM ENTRANCE. MEDICAL PERSONNEL everywhere. Other ambulances. INJURED PEOPLE. Our paramedics get out and unload Heavy Man.

Nicholas and Christine get out, disoriented. Heavy Man's rushed inside via automatic doors. Christine hands off the clipboard to Nicholas, following the stretcher...

CHRISTINE Let's talk to whoever can get this over with...

NICHOLAS (reading clipboard) Hold on... (of the clipboard) They want your driver's license number.

Christine returns to look, and suddenly ALL THE LIGHTS GO OUT. Nicholas and Christine look up. In the surrounding darkness, we HEAR EVERYONE FLEEING...

FOOTSTEPS SCATTER... then, SILENCE.

NICHOLAS You've got to be kidding.

CHRISTINE What... is... happening... ?

The only light is a BULB inside the ambulance.

NICHOLAS (disgust) I was trying to tell you... it's a game.

CHRISTINE A game?

NICHOLAS (tosses clipboard) It's run by a company... they play elaborate pranks. Things like this. I'm really only now finding out myself.

CHRISTINE What are you talking about?

NICHOLAS The lights went out, one hundred people all ran away...

CHRISTINE You mean, the guy who turned blue and wet himself... ?

NICHOLAS I'm sorry, about this...

CHRISTINE You should be.

Christine climbs into the ambulance, searching.

CHRISTINE There's got to be a flashlight.

NICHOLAS (quietly) I don't understand why they're getting you involved.

IN THE AMBULANCE, she finds all drawers and cabinets EMPTY.

CHRISTINE This is so fucked. You don't fuck with people like this. I thought that guy was gonna die. I gave him mouth to mouth!

She digs in her purse, finds a book of restaurant MATCHES. She lights a match, climbing out.

CHRISTINE See you around.

NICHOLAS Where are you going?

CHRISTINE Home.

NICHOLAS How do you know that's the way?

She just keeps walking.

A distant "DING" is HEARD. Far away, an ELEVATOR OPENS with a light inside. Christine stops.

Christine changes direction, heading for the elevator. Nicholas hurries to follow. The match burns out. A moment, then Christine strikes another, lighting the way, barely. As they squeeze between parked cars, Christine searches...

CHRISTINE Where'd you all go? Motherfucking frat boys. You better hide. (to Nicholas) Is your life so pathetic that this is something you're willing to pay for?

NICHOLAS It was a gift... from my brother.

CHRISTINE How thoughtful. The gift of inconvenience.

NIcholas stumbles. A beer BOTTLE is HEAR SKITTERING away.

INT. ELEVATOR -- NIGHT

They reach the elevator. Nicholas pushes a button.

NICHOLAS Ground floor.

He and Christine step back and wait, looking up. And wait... and wait, looking unhappily to each other.

Nicholas pushes all the buttons. Nothing happens. Christine opens the EMERGENCY PHONE door: NO PHONE. Nicholas touches his finger to a KEY HOLE below the buttons.

He takes out keys, finds the C.R.S. KEY, tries it... it fits. He turns it. DOORS CLOSE and the ELEVATOR MOVES. Nicholas is pleased, sees Christine wondering.

NICHOLAS (of the key) Long story. (off her stare) I found this key in the mouth of a wooden Harlequin.

CHRISTINE Never mind.

The ELEVATOR LURCHES, DROPS, then HALTS. LIGHTS OUT, replaced by RED EMERGENCY LIGHT. A MOTOR is HEARD DYING.

CHRISTINE I don't like that. (pushing buttons) We're stuck.

Nicholas takes out his phone, puts it to his ear. STATIC.

NICHOLAS (pockets phone) No signal.

Christine pounds on the buttons and doors, frustrated. She tries to pry the doors open. Can't.

CHRISTINE What's the going rate for the "trapped-in-elevator-adventure" these days?

Nicholas hits BUTTONS hard. Christine studies the ceiling, moving under the square seam of the TRAP DOOR, pointing.

NICHOLAS Don't even think about it.

CHRISTINE Why not?

NICHOLAS Read what it says: "Warning, do not attempt to open. If elevator stops, use emergency... "

CHRISTINE If there was one.

NICHOLAS "... wait for help." Wait for help. I'm not opening a door that specifically warns me not to.

CHRISTINE Are you suggesting we wait till someone finds us?

Nicholas considers this, looks around.

INT. ELEVATOR SHAFT -- NIGHT

The trap door CREAKS open. Nicholas looks up from the elevator, standing on hand rails. He gets down.

IN THE ELEVATOR

NICHOLAS I'll give you a boost.

CHRISTINE You first.

NICHOLAS This isn't an attempt to be gallant. If I don't lift you, how are you going to get there?

CHRISTINE You pull me up.

NICHOLAS It's much easier this way. Come on, step up...

CHRISTINE No.

NICHOLAS Please...

CHRISTINE I'm not wearing underwear. Okay? There, I said it. Satisfied.

NICHOLAS (looks at her skirt) Oh. FIne.

Nicholas starts climbing...

IN THE ELEVATOR SHAFT

Nicholas comes up, batting cobwebs, tentative. He grips a handful of grease, disgusted. He climbs thru, catching his jacket on a jutting screw, FABRIC RIPPPPPPPPING...

CHRISTINE (o.s.) Oops.

Nicholas stands in the shaft, pissed. He looks for a place to wipe his hand, wipes it on his jacket, looking up.

NICHOLAS There's a ladder here.

IN THE ELEVATOR

CHRISTINE My hero. Let's go.

Nicholas offers his grease covered hand from above.

NICHOLAS I don't think so.

Nicholas withdraws that hand, offers the clean one.

CUT TO:

INT. BUILDING LOBBY -- NIGHT

Elevator doors shift, forced from inside. Nicholas climbs out, then pulls Christine out behind him. They're head-to-toe filthy, clothing ruined.

NICHOLAS Damn. My briefcase.

He looks back down the shaft.

CHRISTINE I'll wait.

NICHOLAS (resigned sigh) It's not like anyone could actually open it.

They walk, looking at the vast lobby and sky-lit ATRIUM.

NICHOLAS This is C.R.S.

CHRISTINE What's C.R.S.?

NICHOLAS Consumer Recreation Services. It's their building. They...

A BEEP is HEARD. Nicholas looks above... Sees a MOTION SENSOR with a green light blinking.

NICHOLAS Oh...

An ALARM SOUNDS; a loud RINGING BELL. Nicholas backs away.

NICHOLAS Don't panic. When security gets here, we simply explain what happened...

CHRISTINE They'll love that.

NICHOLAS Yes... well...

FOOTFALLS. Nicholas turns to see Christine running away.

CHRISTINE (over her shoulder) Explain for both of us!

Nicholas looks around, unsure. He follows...

EXT. ALLEYWAY, BEHIND C.R.S. BUILDING -- NIGHT

Christine bursts thru "EMERGENCY EXIT" doors. Nicholas arrives. He grips her arm and they walk, out of breath.

NICHOLAS Walk, slowly. Don't draw attention. Out for a stroll...

TIRES SCREECH. A SPOTLIGHT HITS them from behind.

ANGRY VOICE (o.s.) You! Stay where you are!

It's a SECURITY CAR on the other side of a fence.

CHRISTINE Run!

They run, down the alley.

ANGRY VOICE Stop!

EXT. NARROW ALLEYWAY -- NIGHT

SIRENS HEARD. Christine and Nicholas sprint round a corner, all out... thru puddles, glancing back. Ahead, a SECURITY CAR skids, starting for them. Christine and Nicholas double back. She takes the lead.

Christine spots something, makes a chouse, moving into a very NARROW ALLEY space.

NICHOLAS Where are you going? (looks in, worried) You can't fit there.

She's making fine progress regardless.

NICHOLAS I can't!

Nicholas sees the SECURITY CAR bearing down. He must turn sideways to fit in the narrow alley, shuffling after.

BEHIND, the car stops and SECURITY GUARD gets out, club in hand. In the car, a GERMAN SHEPHERD barks.

Security Guard tries to fit down the space, but can't. His belly's too big, his utility belt catching. He runs back to the car, opens the door...

The German Shepherd shoots down the alley, a projectile...

DOWN THE TIGHT ALLEYWAY

Christine comes out into OPEN AREA, running on, looking up. Ruined buildings on all sides, CHAIN LINK FENCES everywhere. Nicholas arrives, pissed, trying to catch up...

NICHOLAS You deserted me.

CHRISTINE You're a grown man. I'm not responsible for you.

NICHOLAS You're the one who started running.

CHRISTINE Me? You're the one who... ! (sees something) Shit!

Christine runs faster. Nicholas looks back...

The German Shepherd's on its way...

Nicholas faces front, runs, arms pumping, terrified...

The German Shepherd's closing, growling...

Christine and Nicholas reach the CHAIN LINK FENCE ahead...

NICHOLAS Climb!

Christine makes the leap first, scrambling up the fence. Nicholas climbs beside her, pulling himself up...

The German Shepherd leaps... bites Nicholas' leg...

Nicholas YELLS -- PANTS RIPPING. The dog falls with a mouthful of cloth.

Christine and Nicholas reach the top of the fence, clinging, balanced on their elbows, looking back. The German Shepherd barks and leaps.

Christine and Nicholas start over the fence, beginning their climb down the other side...

ON THE OPPOSITE SIDE: three OTHER DOGS run from the shadows, Pit-Bulls and a Doberman, jumping and biting...

Nicholas and Christine scramble back to the top.

All the dogs hop up and down, snapping. They gnash at each other and bark at each other, frenzied.

Nicholas and Christine have no choice but to hang, stranded.

CHRISTINE Now what?

Nicholas looks up, daunted. He spots something...

There's a place where the fence runs under a FIRE ESCAPE.

NICHOLAS Follow me...

Nicholas gets a toe-hold, shifts his elbows, grunting, beginning the herky lateral climb toward the fire escape. Christine follows his example.

Slow going. DOGS BARKING NON-STOP, nipping at their heels.

CHRISTINE Shut up, you stupid, fucking dogs!!

BARKING AND BARKING AND BARKING.

CHRISTINE What are they guarding around here? Each other?

Nicholas slips, keeps grip, but loses a SHOE...

The dogs catch the shoe in their jaws, fighting for it.

Nicholas watches the shoe get torn to pieces, keeps moving.

NICHOLAS There goes a thousand dollars.

CHRISTINE Your shoes cost a thousand dollars?

NICHOLAS That one did.

CHRISTINE (to herself) ... two hundred dollars a toe.

Nicholas reaches the fire escape, balancing precariously to reach it. He climbs gracelessly up...

He helps Christine after him, bringing her on board. They lean against the rail, exhausted. Nicholas looks to the multi-leveled ladders above.

NICHOLAS Let me guess. Me first?

He climbs. Christine looks down at the dogs, stupefied, looks up at Nicholas on the CREAKING rusty fire escape.

CHRISTINE (to herself) This is getting out of hand.

As she starts up.

CUT TO:

EXT. GARBAGE ALLEY -- NIGHT

ABANDONED BUILDING. Boarded-over windows are kicked open from inside. Nicholas and Christine look out.

They climb out onto ANOTHER FIRE ESCAPE, two stories up above a trash filled, dumpster crowded alley.

CHRISTINE Never did catch your name.

NICHOLAS Nicholas. Nicholas Van Orton.

CHRISTINE Nicholas Van Orton? What are you, a czar?

Nicholas moves to the catch of the fire escape ladder, unhooks it. The LADDER DROPS to bridge the gap to the ground, KEEPS GOING, sliding free and disconnecting -- falls flat to the ground below with a LOUD, ECHOING CLATTER.

CHRISTINE (pause) That's classic.

NICHOLAS (staring down, misery) Why... ?

Christine crosses to the far edge of the railing, points.

CHRISTINE We hang down here and drop. The garbage'll break our fall.

NICHOLAS I think not.

Christine climbs over the fire escape railing...

CHRISTINE Afraid you're going to ruin your one-legged suit?

She lowers herself down, hanging off, legs dangling...

NICHOLAS Be careful...

A metal DOOR is THROWN OPEN below. TWO THAI BUS-BOYS come out, dumping garbage, smoking cigarettes, laughing.

Above, Christine looks up at Nicholas, mortified. She nods urgently for him to help her back up. Nicholas climbs the rail, beside her, trying to get a grip, none too effective.

Below, one bus-boy looks up, shouting. The other bus-boy looks. They back away, SPEAKING RAPID THAI, pointing.

CHRISTINE What are they... ? (realizing) Hey!

Christine lets go with one hand, trying to pull her skirt shut. Nicholas loses hold, drops her...

Christine lands hard in garbage.

NICHOLAS Are you okay... ?!

Nicholas drops, alarmed... lands in broken plastic bags of wet garbage, slipping as he moves to Christine. Bus-boys are helping her up.

CHRISTINE I'm okay... I'm okay, thank you...

Bus-boys keep questioning in Thai. Nicholas and Christine brush off. Nicholas takes off his spewed jacket, shakes it in disgust, straightens his tie. They stop...

At the doorway, all the COOKS, BUS-BOYS, WAITERS and DISH-WASHERS stare at Nicholas and Christine in wonder.

Nicholas and Christine stare back. Nicholas looks to Christine, brushing rotten lettuce off her shoulder, nods to the restaurant workers, clears his throat.

NICHOLAS Table for two, please.

He offers his arm to Christine, she takes it, they head in.

CUT TO:

EXT. CITY STREETS -- NIGHT

ONE CONTINUOUS LONG SHOT: Nicholas and Christine walk, taking their time, eating out of take-out boxes.

CHRISTINE Where are we going?

NICHOLAS (points at skyline) That tall, bright building. Near there.

They walk a long time in silence. A POLICE CAR moves from behind. POLICEMAN shines a flashlight up and down Nicholas.

POLICEMAN Everything okay, miss?

CHRISTINE Yeah. How are you?

The police car keeps pace, then drives on.

CUT TO:

INT. NICHOLAS' OFFICE -- NIGHT

Nicholas enters, turning on lights, which dim to a warm glow. Christine takes in the impressive office. Nicholas crosses to a wall, opens a hidden closet, chooses a shirt.

NICHOLAS There's a shower, if you'd like.

Christine leans to peek in the bathroom.

CHRISTINE A shower in your office? You an athlete or something?

Nicholas puts on a new shirt.

Christine circles the desk, runs her fingers down his phone.

CHRISTINE What exactly do you do?

NICHOLAS Investment banking. Moving money from place to place.

Christine has wandered to the closed blinds, opening them to reveal a breathtaking view of the city.

CHRISTINE Nice.

NICHOLAS Hm? (looks) Oh, yes.

Nicholas takes out a SWEATSHIRT and offers it.

NICHOLAS A fresh shirt...

CHRISTINE (takes shirt, crossing) If this was my office, I wouldn't keep that closed.

NICHOLAS I don't spend much time looking out the window. (goes to desk) I'll call you a taxi.

Christine faces away, throws off her filthy shirt...

Nicholas, on the phone, looks to Christine's shapely back and RED BRA. He averts his eyes, embarrassed...

NICHOLAS Oh! Uh...

Christine puts on the PENN STATE sweatshirt, straightens it.

CHRISTINE Thanks.

Nicholas nods, phone to his ear.

CUT TO:

EXT. VAN ORTON BUILDING -- NIGHT

TWO CABS. Nicholas opens the door of the first for Christine. She faces him, close.

NICHOLAS I know the owner of Campton Place. I could talk to him in the morning.

CHRISTINE Don't. It was a shitty job anyway. I overreacted.

Christine sits, keeps her legs out the door of the cab. Nicholas stands waiting for her to pull her legs in.

NICHOLAS Goodnight.

CHRISTINE I don't think I've ever spent this much time with someone who didn't even ask my name.

NICHOLAS The maitre d' called you Christine.

CHRISTINE (remembering) Right. Call me Christy.

NICHOLAS Goodnight, Christy. It was nice meeting you.

CHRISTINE Give me an address so I can send your shirt back.

NICHOLAS Keep it.

She looks up at Nicholas, sits inside. He shuts the door and steps back. Christine rolls her window down.

CHRISTINE I have a confession to make. Someone gave me six-hundred dollars to spill drinks on you, as a practical joke.

NICHOLAS Seriously? What did they say?

CHRISTINE They said five hundred. I said six. They said the man in the gray flannel suit. I think I said, you mean the attractive guy in the gray flannel suit?

Christine smiles, rolls up the window. The taxi leaves. Nicholas watches it go. A twinge of regret.

EXT. CAMPTON PLACE RESTAURANT -- LATER NIGHT

Nicholas' cab pulls up at the closed restaurant, behind the Bentley. A restaurant VALET sweeps the sidewalk, waves to greet as Nicholas gets out of the cab.

Ñëåäóþùàÿ ñòðàíèöà>>>

 

 


© 2005-2023. Êîïèðîâàíèå ìàòåðèàëîâ ñàéòà çàïðåùåíî! Äëÿ ñâÿçè homeenglish@mail.ru