by Woody Allen
FRED
That can be changed—I know a brain surgeon who can install a dish.
JIM
I accept the Judeo-Christian ethic.
FRED
You take your orders from a cartel?
JIM
You equate psychosis with creativity.
FRED
Hey, don't believe me—check your reviews over the years. What do you think the critics mean when they euphemistically refer to you as a “fine craftsman”?
JIM
That I'm a solid professional. You're just unstructured madness.
FRED
That's why we'd make a good team.
JIM
No, I don't want to be a team.
FRED
You're afraid.
JIM
Maybe—but it's my choice and I'm saying no to murder. I realize there's probably going to be very painful consequences, but I'm responsible for what I've gotten myself into and if Barbara chooses to behave like a vicious snake, taking her life is still absolutely unacceptable.
FRED
We have hit on the kernel of your problem, kid. You can't make the leap.
(Now Barbara appears on the scene again.)
BARBARA
I want to talk to you.
JIM
Barbara—I thought—
BARBARA
I'm glad you're still here.
FRED
Barbara, are you allergic to any insect sprays or roach powder?
JIM
Fred!
BARBARA
I want to speak to him alone.
FRED
Alone? How is that possible?
BARBARA
Without you around.
FRED
But we're partners.
JIM
OK, Fred—give me some space—we're not joined at the hip.
FRED
But our collaboration—
JIM
Please—I need some time with Barbara. Go chat with the mother ship.
FRED
OK—suit yourself. I'm out of here.
(sotto to Jim)
You see that glowing red aura around her? The only time I've ever seen it before was around Nixon.
(Fred exits.)
JIM
Barbara, I'm sorry about everything.
BARBARA
I needed a few minutes to clear my head.
JIM
You were pretty frazzled back there.
BARBARA
Everything took me by surprise.
JIM
I apologize for that. There's no easy way to end an affair.
BARBARA
I knew what I was getting myself into.
JIM
I never led you on. We're both adults.
BARBARA
I've been a little tense lately. Lost my job—been drinking a little too much.
JIM
I understand. I was going through a bad period in my marriage for a while. Maybe it'll never right itself, but having an affair is not the way I should be dealing with it. If there's anything I can do for you—
BARBARA
I'd like three hundred thousand dollars.
JIM
Just let me know.
BARBARA
Three hundred down and two more by the end of the year.
JIM
Pardon me?
BARBARA
You've come into some dough with your screenplay. I think you can manage a half mil.
JIM
Barbara, think what you're doing—
BARBARA
You think. I could make your life miserable but I'm not. That's got to be worth something.
JIM
A half million dollars—
BARBARA
You gonna quibble? I'll go to Lola right now.
JIM
I can't pay that kind of money.
BARBARA
You mean you won't.
JIM
No, I won't. Even if I could I wouldn't. Because it wouldn't stop there. You'd be all over me next year and the year after that.
BARBARA
Jim, you're not in a position to make the rules.
JIM
I'm trying to clean up a mess I made, not get deeper into it. This would tie us together forever. You'd bleed me white over the years. I'd never be free of you.
BARBARA
I want the money by tomorrow—the first payment, that is. You have twenty-four hours.
JIM
I don't need twenty-four hours.
BARBARA
If I don't hear from you by tomorrow afternoon I'll assume you'd prefer I blew the whistle. Your choice. Sleep well.
(As she goes off, Jim doesn't know where to turn, then he takes out his cellular phone.)
JIM
(ranting)
No—you won't blow any whistle because I will. I'll tell Lola myself. I'll confess everything. I'll beg her to understand. I'll weep, I'll grovel. Lola's a decent human. Maybe she can find it in her heart to forgive me … all right, that's a long shot … but I couldn't go on living knowing there was someone out there who could wreck my home on a whim … every time she wanted more money … and the payments would get bigger … bigger and more frequent … How would I explain that? No, Lola, we can't afford the apartment anymore—but I can't tell you why … And the vacation's out—and the boys have to get jobs. Little twin jobs …
(Fred has entered laconically and just observes Jim, who doesn't see Fred and speaks into the phone.)
Hello—Lola, it's Jim. Jim Swain … your—your husband … old Jim Swain, James Swain, ha, ha … So how've you been? Good—life treating you right? Ha, ha—what? No—I haven't been drinking. I just wanted to chat. You know I love you … ha, ha … Lola—I have something to tell you—
(Fred takes the cellular phone away and throws it onto the ground.)
FRED
What are you doing?
JIM
What'd you do?
FRED
You weren't going to confess everything to Lola, were you?
JIM
Yes I was—do you know that you were right about Barbara— she has a red aura around her—I'm sure I saw it—she wants five hundred thousand dollars—for openers—can you believe that? Three hundred big ones tomorrow and the rest by the end of the year. But I'm not paying it—not a nickel—not a red cent.
FRED
Not to worry. Twenty minutes and Barbara'll be in the Atlantic—or Poughkeepsie if the current ran upstream.
JIM
You don't understand, I—Fred—you didn't—
FRED
I was right about her, Jim, she takes her orders from another galaxy.
JIM
Fred, say it isn't so—
FRED
Don't worry—there's no way you can be linked to it.
JIM
Ohmigod.
FRED
Very clever. She had a computer chip implanted in her ear. She was part of a plan to enslave the Bronx.
JIM
I've got to get out of here.
FRED
If she's ever found, somewhere in the vast Atlantic—it'll look like a suicide—they'll never know one way or the other. You said yourself, a woman alone, recently lost her job.
JIM
You threw her in the Hudson River?
FRED
All that elaborate planning—it was bad writing. The best plots are the simplest. I was sitting on a bench, she walked by—we were both alone—it came to me in a moment of inspiration. That's the difference between us two—with you it would have been labored and overanalyzed. This is not real, that's not logical. To me it just felt right.
JIM
I'm going to be sick.
FRED
Hey look, forget about the royalties from our movie—and forget about collaborating—truth is, I don't really want to be a writer—I'd forgotten how tedious it is—it's lonel
y work, Jim— and I've had an offer to be part of the next Apollo team— they're talking about a manned mission to Alpha Centauri. But keep at your work—you're a good professional—although I would recommend eventually you find someone to team up with—there's no shame in collaborating—it's just that you're missing a part.
JIM
I'm in a state of shock.
FRED
Keep your eye on the stars, Jim. There's life on many of them—not that they necessarily mean us well. The object of the Apollo mission is to explore some of the trouble spots in the universe and deal with any eventuality that may occur— the President knows about it—we've discussed it at length … it's not all a bed of roses out there …
(The cellular phone rings and Jim answers.)
JIM
(into phone)
Hello? Lola—yes …I don't know what happened … we were disconnected …Oh no …I was about to say …I called because I miss you and I'll pick you up at work and we can walk home together …I love you …I love you … I—oh, Lola—
(Exiting as Fred rants.)
FRED
I can actually make out some canals on Neptune—they could be decoys—what did we do to make them so angry at us? Nothing, you say? Think again … You're not the type for an extramarital affair—and be thankful—the price is too dear—love to Lola … Come in!
FADE OUT
WRITER'S BLOCK
OLD SAYBROOK
Curtain rises on a country home in Connecticut. A combination of American antiques and contemporary furnishings—perhaps a large stone fireplace—a staircase leading upstairs. Sheila and Norman, who live there, are hosting a barbecue out in the back. Sheila's sister, Jenny, and her husband, David, are the only guests. Sound of geese honking.
Jenny, Sheila and Norman are fixing and/or refilling drinks while they make small talk prior to going out back to cook.
SHEILA
(looks out window and says wistfully)
Look, Norman, the geese are back.
NORMAN
Spoken like the tragic heroine of a Russian play.
JENNY
I hate Russian plays. Nothing happens and they charge the same price as a musical.
SHEILA
To think that each year when the geese migrate south they pick our little pond to lay over at for a few days.
NORMAN
I told you Old Saybrook is becoming the in place.
DAVID
What do the geese tell us about the inscrutable magnificence of nature?
SHEILA
What?
DAVID
That one day we all must grow old and decay. That's the message in all of nature.
JENNY
That's easy for him to say, he's a plastic surgeon and that message is on his business card.
SHEILA
Your wife got you, David.
DAVID
(toasts)
To the geese.
JENNY
Not the geese—to Norman and Sheila. Happy seventh anniversary.
NORMAN
Some of the happiest years of my life. Maybe two of them. Just joking.
SHEILA
Freud said there are no jokes.
NORMAN
(toasts)
To Sigmund Freud—the poet of penis envy.
DAVID
And now, if you'll all excuse me, I'm going into the den to watch Tiger Woods—please don't disturb me until the steaks come off the barbecue.
(Exits to den.)
JENNY
(exiting, to Sheila)
I'll make more ice—it's one of the only things I learned in cooking school.
DAVID
(returning)
Where are the pistachio nuts?
SHEILA
I don't know …
DAVID
I can't watch golf without pistachio nuts.
SHEILA
David.
DAVID
They must be red—red, salted pistachio nuts.
SHEILA
(exiting to kitchen)
I have cashews—
DAVID
Cashews are basketball. Pistachios are golf.
NORMAN
David, just get out.
(David exits into den.)
I figured out what the geese symbolize. They symbolize impending disaster—the honking is a mating call and a mating call always spells trouble.
(Bell rings.)
NORMAN
(calls out)
Sheila, are you expecting anyone?
SHEILA
(returning to room)
No.
(They open the door and a comparable couple, Hal and Sandy Maxwell, stand there.)
Yes?
HAL
Hello—I hope we're not disturbing you.
SANDY
(a bit embarrassed)
This is silly, Hal.
HAL
I'm Hal Maxwell and this is my wife, Sandy. We were driving by and we don't want to intrude, but we used to live here.
SHEILA
Really?
SANDY
Yes—for nine years—we sold the place to a Mr. Krolian.
HAL
Max Krolian, a fairly well-known writer.
NORMAN
Sure—well, we've been here for about three years now. Norman Pollack—Sheila's my wife. Please—come in.
SANDY
We don't want to bother you. We've moved to New Jersey and we happened to be up here for one day antiquing and we were so close.
SHEILA
Please—come in. Have a look around. Feel free.
NORMAN
So you used to live here?
SHEILA
Can we offer you a drink?
HAL
Oh God—I would love one.
SANDY
You have to drive.
(They have entered in deeper and look around.)
SHEILA
How does it look?
HAL
It brings back such memories.
NORMAN
What would you like?
HAL
What I would like is a single malt scotch but I will drink anything.
NORMAN
And you?
SANDY
Oh, just a tiny bit of white wine if you have it.
NORMAN
We have no white but our martinis are colorless.
(Sandy laughs at Norman's joke.)
HAL
(at window)
Whose idea was it to put in a swimming pool?
NORMAN
We did that.
HAL
What shape is it?
NORMAN
Amoeba—an amoeba … it's an amoeba-shaped pool.
HAL
Those little germs …
SANDY
Hal—
(Jenny enters.)
SHEILA
Oh—Jenny—these are—
HAL
The Maxwells.
SHEILA
They used to live here.
SANDY
We just wanted to see the place again—we were married here.
JENNY
Oh—how sweet.
HAL
In that garden. Under a maple tree—now it's gone, there's a pool.
SHEILA
You hungry?
SANDY
No—
HAL
What are you telling them no, we're starved.
NORMAN
Well then, join us—we're barbecuing some steaks.
SANDY
No, we couldn't.
HAL
Er—medium rare.
DAVID
(emerges from den momentarily)
Who came in? I heard the bell ring just as Tiger was about to putt. I think the noise made him miss.
JENNY
My husband—David, this is—
HAL
Hal and Sandy Maxwell—we used
to live here.
DAVID
Oh really? Where did you put the pistachio nuts?
JENNY
David, they got married here.
DAVID
Oh great. Do you play golf?
HAL
No.
DAVID
Um, terrific. We must play sometime.
JENNY
In the winter it's the Knicks, in the summer it's golf—talk about Freud—he loves to watch young men put balls in holes.
(She goes.)
HAL
Hey—what happened to the beautiful floor that was here?
NORMAN
Oh, er—we redid it.
HAL
Redid the random planking? Why?
NORMAN
We wanted something smoother.
SANDY
(with a look to her husband)
It's lovely—
HAL
This floor is the first spot we made love on—
SANDY
Hal—
HAL
—right here—where the coffee table is. It was smooth enough for us.
SANDY
Hal—
SHEILA
Er—that's very romantic.
HAL
I think so. Sandy gets shy. It was a memorable moment. Particularly since we were both married to different people at the time.
SANDY
Hal!
SHEILA
Oh goodness.
HAL
Don't get the wrong impression. We were drunk, here alone, there was an electrical storm, all the lights went out—suddenly the room was illuminated by a flash of lightning and I saw Sandy, her lips full, her hair wild from the intense humidity— she beckoned me to her with the ever increasing promise of sexual adventure.
SHEILA
What do you do, Mr. Maxwell?
HAL
Hal. I'm an accountant. See—her face fell.
SHEILA
What?
HAL
You figured me for a poet, right? I don't seem the type to be crunching numbers for a business firm—do I?
SHEILA
I don't know—accountants can be poetic. You should see some of our tax returns.
HAL
I feel there's more in me but I just don't have the courage.
SANDY
Hal would like to write the great American novel.
HAL
Play, Sandy, play—not novel. Although I have written a few poems about the dangers of cholesterol. Sonnets.
SANDY
Did you know Mr. Krolian, the former owner?
NORMAN
Only by reputation.
HAL
I met him once when we sold the place. I tried to talk to him— he was a difficult man to communicate with—but a very clever writer.
NORMAN
Excuse me. I better go help her sister, Jenny—whenever she tries to light the barbecue we wind up on the six o'clock news. (He goes.)
SANDY
What does your husband do, Mrs.—
SHEILA