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written permission of the author.

BEYOND THE PALE

by Neil Stratton

PART ONE

INT  HOTEL LOBBY  NIGHT

BRETT, a writer of crime fiction, and SOPHIE, his assistant, 
arrive with suitcases.

SOPHIE
We made it.

BRETT
No thanks to that stupid rental.   I
mean what's the point of hiring out
a car that doesn't work?

SOPHIE
Breakdowns happen.  The point is
we're here now.

BRETT
I wonder what else can go wrong?

SOPHIE
Nothing.  Go and relax while I
check in.

BRETT
I'm fine.  I was merely being curious.

SOPHIE
Remember what the doctor said.

BRETT
Yes yes, I have to relax my bloody
head off.  

She waits.

BRETT
All right, I'm going.

He sits down and watches Sophie talking to the DESK CLERK.
Unable to hear what they're saying, he becomes more and
more alarmed.  Finally he jumps up and marches over to the
desk.

BRETT
What's the problem?

SOPHIE
No problem.  Everything's fine.

He turns to the desk clerk.

BRETT
What's the problem?

CLERK
We have you down for one room.

BRETT (to Sophie)
I thought you had everything
organised.

SOPHIE
I'm dealing with it.

BRETT (to clerk)
Check again.

CLERK (reading from screen)
Mr and Mrs Smith - one room.

BRETT (to Sophie)
Smith?  That's the best you could
come up with?

SOPHIE
You said it didn't matter what name
I used.

BRETT
That was before I knew they had a
policy of rationing Smiths to one
room.

CLERK
Excuse me but it doesn't matter to
us if you're not married.  We're very
discreet.

BRETT
We are not having an affair.  Our
relationship is purely professional.

SOPHIE
Go and sit down.  I can handle this.

BRETT
So can I. (to clerk) You owe us a
room.

CLERK
Unfortunately we're fully booked at
the moment.  I'd have to evict
someone.

BRETT
I don't have a problem with that.

SOPHIE
Remember what the doctor said.

BRETT
It's okay, it's fine.  We're winning.
He's promised to evict someone.

CLERK
I'm sorry but that's not what I said.

BRETT
You can't backtrack now.  I have a
witness.

CLERK
Company policy dictates that in an
overbooking, it's first come, first
served.

BRETT
So much for the perfect stress-free
holiday.  We're doomed.  Doomed.

He catches sight of Sophie looking at him.

BRETT
What?

SOPHIE
Are you going to sit down or shall I
call Dr Venables?

He marches stiffly back to his chair and watches them through
squinty eyes.

INT  SMITH HOTEL ROOM  NIGHT

BRETT
This is not what I call a solution.

SOPHIE
I said I'd sleep on the couch.

BRETT
We didn't come to a luxury hotel to
sleep on a couch.  I wouldn't let a
dog lie on this.

He prods the couch for emphasis.

BRETT
Hey, not bad.  I'll have it.

SOPHIE
The doctor ordered complete rest
and relaxation.  You'll sleep a lot
better in a real bed.

BRETT
True.

INT  BEDROOM - SMITH HOTEL ROOM  NIGHT

Brett tosses and turns in bed, unable to sleep.  He gets up and
puts on his dressing gown.

INT  SMITH HOTEL ROOM  NIGHT

Brett enters and switches on the light.  Sophie's asleep on the
couch.  He waits.  She doesn't stir.  He touches her shoulder.

BRETT
Wake up.

SOPHIE
What is it?

BRETT
I can't sleep.

SOPHIE
Shall I get you a glass of water?

BRETT
Very droll.  No I was thinking about
you.

SOPHIE
Me?  Really?

BRETT
Enduring the miseries of the couch
while I was wallowing in comfort.

SOPHIE
Actually I was sound asleep.

BRETT
Well of course you were.  You've
got a clear conscience.  I'm the one
racked by pangs of remorse.

SOPHIE
Would it make you feel better if we
swapped?

BRETT
Yes.

Later.

Brett's on the couch, trying to sleep.  No matter which way he
turns or contorts his body, he can't get comfortable.  He gets up
and knocks on the bedroom door.

INT  BEDROOM - SMITH HOTEL ROOM  NIGHT

Sophie lies in peaceful sleep.

BRETT (off)
Sophie.  Sophie.

She wakes and turns on the light.

SOPHIE
Now what?

He enters.

BRETT
It's hopeless.  I've tried every
position except standing on my
head.  I need a comfortable bed.

SOPHIE
That's what I said all along.

BRETT
Can we share?  It's a king-size, so
we're not likely to get in each
other's way.

SOPHIE
Sure.

He slips under the covers.

BRETT
'Night.

SOPHIE
'Night.

She turns off the light.  A moment's stillness then Brett turns on
his lamp.

BRETT
I think we should establish some
ground rules.

SOPHIE
Can't it wait till morning?

BRETT
That's the whole point.  It might be
too late then.

SOPHIE
For what?

BRETT
Snoring, for instance.  If I do, whack
me with a pillow.

SOPHIE
You snore?

BRETT
Well Nina reckoned I did, but she
might have just said that to annoy
me.

SOPHIE
Okay.

She lies down.

BRETT
Hang on, we haven't talked about
nuzzling your ear.

SOPHIE
What?

BRETT
In my sleep, I mean.  Thinking your
Nina.

SOPHIE
Oh.

BRETT
That's another whack with the
pillow.

SOPHIE
I'm really tired, so if you don't mind...

He turns off his lamp and almost immediately turns it back on
again.

BRETT
One more thing...

SOPHIE
I get the picture.  Whatever you do,
I give you a whack.

BRETT
I just want you to know how much I
value our relationship.  The working
one, I mean.  I'd hate to spoil it.

SOPHIE
How?

BRETT
Well let's just say, girlfriends come
and go but a good PA is hard to
find.

SOPHIE (grimly)
I see.

BRETT
Good.  I'm glad we've got that
cleared up.  'Night.

He turns off his lamp.  Sophie doesn't answer.

EXT  HOTEL CAFE  DAY

It's morning and Brett's sipping coffee at an outside table.
Sophie joins him.

SOPHIE
I thought you slept late.

BRETT
I do normally.  But then normally I
don't sleep with someone I'm not
sleeping with, if you know what I
mean.

SOPHIE
Had breakfast?

BRETT
Just coffee.  Got to leave room for
cocktails.  So, what's my program
for today?

SOPHIE
Program?

BRETT
Yes, what am I doing?

SOPHIE
Whatever you like.

BRETT (miffed)
I see.

SOPHIE
I didn't think you'd need a program
to sit around the pool drinking
martinis.

BRETT
Apparently not.

SOPHIE
You want me to organise
something?

BRETT
Well, isn't that what I pay you for?

SOPHIE
You're supposed to be taking it
easy.  If a problem arises, I'll take
care of it.  Do you have a problem?

BRETT
Yes, my PA's a bit snippy.

SOPHIE
Sorry.

BRETT
Relaxing means not having to think
for myself.  Yet already I find I'm
having to decide where, when and
how to spend my day.  If you were
snowed under I'd understand.

SOPHIE
You're not the only one due a
holiday.  I've been working hard
too.

BRETT
Yes yes, I'm not disputing that.  But
if you'd let me know, I could've
arranged backup.

SOPHIE
I'm available to help when
necessary

BRETT
You just said you're on holiday.

SOPHIE
All right, I'll organise a program.

BRETT
No no, I'll manage.  You swan off
and have a good time.

She sighs.

EXT  HOTEL POOLSIDE  DAY

Brett sits by the edge of the pool, dangling his feet in the water
and sipping his martini.  A small boy divebombs into the pool,
filling Brett's glass with water.  Sophie comes along.

SOPHIE
How's it going?

BRETT
I need you to arrange an
assassination.

SOPHIE
Who have you annoyed?

BRETT
Nobody.  Thanks to that evil
midget, my martini is no longer dry.

SOPHIE
Wouldn't it be simpler if I fetched
you another drink?

BRETT
But less emotionally satisfying.

Later.

Sophie returns with two drinks.  Brett's now sitting at a table
under a sun umbrella.

SOPHIE
Spoken to anyone yet?

BRETT
A few.  They seem a dull lot.

SOPHIE
You shouldn't be so critical.

BRETT
I'm not blaming them.  It's what
being on holiday does to people.
You sit around a pool blobbing out.
Our brains are turning to blobby
mush.

SOPHIE
Is that a hint for me to organise a
diversion?

BRETT
No no, wouldn't dream of spoiling
your holiday.

He eyes a woman in a bikini strolling past.

BRETT
Anyway, I think I have the solution.

SOPHIE
You're still recovering from Nina,
remember?

BRETT
Yes I know I'm not ready for
another serious relationship.  On
the other hand, why throw out the
babe with the bathwater?

SOPHIE
I picked up a few pamphlets at the
front desk.  There's some great
bush walks around here.

BRETT
Good idea.  You might even meet
someone.

She's unimpressed.

INT  SMITH HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Brett hustles a giggling YVETTE into the bedroom...

INT  BEDROOM - SMITH HOTEL ROOM  DAY

... where they discover Sophie lying on the bed, reading a
magazine.

YVETTE
Oh.  Who's this?

BRETT
Nobody.  My sister.

SOPHIE
Actually his personal assistant, if
you catch my drift.

BRETT
She doesn't drift, I assure you.

YVETTE
I'm not stupid.  I know all about
incense.

She stomps out.

BRETT
Brilliant.  That was brilliant.

SOPHIE
I can't believe after that talk of
blobby  brains, you'd hook up with
a bubble-head.

BRETT
It only proves I'm not an intellectual
snob.

He saunters out.  She throws her magazine at the door.

INT  HOTEL RESTAURANT  NIGHT

Brett's dining with an admiring CINDI.  Sophie enters, catches
sight of them and comes over.

BRETT
Irony to Austen is what
counterpoint is to Bach.

SOPHIE
Hi, I'm sister Sophie.

She plumps herself down, much to Brett's obvious annoyance.

CINDI
Hi - Cindi.

SOPHIE
What are we talking about?

CINDI
Irony.  Your brother feels he's a
kindred spirit to Jane Austen.

SOPHIE
He writes crime potboilers.  Little
irony, dollops of blood.

CINDI
So tell me, what's it like being an
author?

BRETT
A curse.  I' d much rather have
been a lawyer or accountant.

SOPHIE
Unfortunately they wouldn't have
him.

CINDI
Do you believe in suffering for your
art?

SOPHIE
No, he believes in making others
suffer instead.

BRETT
But enough of me.

SOPHIE
That's a first.

BRETT
Let's hear about you.

CINDI
I'm in lingerie.

BRETT
And I bet you have stories to tell.

SOPHIE
Oh please.

BRETT (to Sophie)
Didn't you say something about an
early night?

SOPHIE
No.

BRETT
Well here's your chance.

CINDI
Excuse me a moment.

She goes off to the restroom.

BRETT
I know what you're doing and it's
got to stop.

SOPHIE
What am I doing?

BRETT
It's obvious you don't approve.

SOPHIE
She's a fling.  What's to approve?

BRETT
Have you met anyone yet?

SOPHIE
I'm going dancing tonight.

He checks his watch.

BRETT
Oh look, it's dancing time.

She crinkles her nose at him and leaves the table.  He takes a
swig of wine and doesn't notice her slip into the restroom.

INT  WOMEN'S RESTROOM  NIGHT

Sophie finds Cindi retouching her make-up.

SOPHIE
Did he mention Nino?

CINDI
No.

SOPHIE
He's always like this after a
bust-up.

CINDI
Like what?

SOPHIE
Deluding himself.  He tries to go
straight but it never lasts.

CINDI
Oh.

SOPHIE
He's very fragile at the moment, so
be careful.

She goes out, leaving Cindi pondering her reflection.

INT  HOTEL RESTAURANT  NIGHT

Cindi slips back into her chair.  She smiles awkwardly.

CINDI
I don't want you to think I'm
prejudiced against gays.

BRETT
Why would I think that?

CINDI
What I mean to say is, I came here
for a good time, not to be involved
in any complicated therapy.

BRETT
I'm confused.

CINDI
I know, but you're going to have to
work through this with someone
else.

She gets up.

BRETT
Wait, can't we talk?

CINDI
We did, and I enjoyed our chat
and the meal.  I'll fix up for half.

He waves this aside.

BRETT
No no, my pleasure.

CINDI
Thanks for being so
understanding.

She gives him a peck on the cheek and leaves.

Brett's mind starts working overtime.  He narrows his eyes as a
suspicion grows.

INT  HOTEL NIGHTCLUB  NIGHT

Sophie is dancing on the crowded dance floor.  Brett makes his
way through the bodies, takes her by the arm and marches her
outside.

EXT  HOTEL NIGHTCLUB  NIGHT

SOPHIE
I thought you wanted me to go
dancing.

BRETT
Why did you tell Cindi I was gay?

SOPHIE
Because you're supposed to be
resting.  You're not up to
relationships at the moment.

BRETT
This time you've gone too far.

SOPHIE
Why?  Are you anti-gay?

BRETT
I suppose that'll be your next trick,
spreading malicious rumours to
that effect.

SOPHIE
I'm sorry.

BRETT
Not sorry enough.  You're fired.

He storms off.

INT  SMITH HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Brett's lying twisted on the couch asleep.  He wakes as Sophie
enters from the bedroom with her suitcase.

BRETT
I hope you're not leaving on my
account.

SOPHIE
Just shifting to another room.  And
it will be to your account.

BRETT
My God, you mean a room actually
became available?  Did someone
die?

SOPHIE
And I want three months pay in lieu.

BRETT
Whatever.

She goes outside.

EXT  HOTEL POOLSIDE  DAY

Brett sits under a sun umbrella sipping a cocktail while reading.
Sophie saunters up.

SOPHIE
Look - nubile women.  Why aren't
you chatting them up?
 
BRETT
Because my nerves are shot.  I'm
recovering from an unpleasant
ordeal.

SOPHIE
Really?

BRETT
Firing someone is emotionally
exhausting.

SOPHIE
I was under the impression it gave
you a great deal of pleasure.

BRETT
Schadenfreude isn't my style.

SOPHIE
Of course not, silly me.  You prefer
to dwell on your own miseries.  

BRETT
What'll I do when you're not around
to remind me of the fact?
Probably degenerate into mild
euphoria.

SOPHIE
You won't cope without me.  You
can't even tie a shoelace without
throwing a neurotic fit.

He writes in his notebook.

BRETT
'Practise tying shoelaces in a cool,
calm collected manner'.  That's the
morning sewn up.  Any
suggestions for the afternoon?

SOPHIE
A bush walk.

BRETT
Me?

SOPHIE
Us.  Only don't expect me to
organise everything because I'm
not your assistant anymore.

BRETT
What's to organise?

SOPHIE
Map, compass, water, tramping
boots...

BRETT
Scythe, pith helmet...

SOPHIE
It's not like going for a stroll at
home.

BRETT
Then I won't bother.  I'll go for a dip
in the pool instead.

SOPHIE
That's your whole plan for the
afternoon?

BRETT
The beauty of being on holiday.  If
something's too much trouble, you
 just flag it away.

SOPHIE
Your solution to everything, isn't it?

She huffs off.

EXT  HOTEL CAFE  DAY

Brett sits picking fitfully at his lunch.  He becomes aware he's
being observed by a man at a nearby table, WAYNE.  He's
beefy, with pleasant if bland features, apart from his eyes,
which have a somewhat fixated stare.

WAYNE
It's Brett Devlin - the writer.

BRETT (turning)
Where?

WAYNE
You.

BRETT
No no, I'm somebody Smith.

WAYNE
Gotcha - incognito.  Cool.

He sits down uninvited.

WAYNE
Don't worry, your secret's safe with
me.

BRETT
How did you know what I looked
like?

WAYNE
I've got all your books.

BRETT
They don't carry my picture.

WAYNE
The first one did.

BRETT
It was a bad shot.  Very grainy.
Made me look like a drug dealer.

WAYNE
I have a thing for faces.  It's a gift.

BRETT
Tremendous.

WAYNE
I can also saw people in half.

Brett blanches.

WAYNE
I mean magically.  Give me your
watch and I'll make it disappear.

BRETT
You've already proved you can do
that to my time.

WAYNE
Tell me, where do you get your
inspiration from?

BRETT
Cornflakes.

WAYNE
Cornflakes?
 
BRETT
I contemplate them.  No two are
alike.

WAYNE
A secret - gotcha.  Like a
magician's trick.  How about we
swap?

BRETT
Sorry?

WAYNE
I'll teach you to dismember people
in safety.

BRETT
You mind?  I'm eating.

WAYNE
Sure.  After lunch then.

BRETT
Can't.  I'm off on a bush walk.

WAYNE
Great.  I'll come too.

BRETT
I'm going with my fiancée.  Three
isn't a romantic number.

He concentrates on finishing his meal, as though busy storing
energy.

INT  SOPHIE'S HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Sophie's painting her toenails.  Brett knocks and enters.

BRETT
Anyone for tennis?

SOPHIE
I'm doing a bush walk.

BRETT
Painted toenails really shine in
tramping boots.

SOPHIE
Why don't you get one of your
female accessories to play?

BRETT
Because I decided you're right.
I'm incapable of uncomplicated
relationships.  Even a simple fling
would involve me in an emotional
maelstrom.

She continues the artistry on her toenails.

BRETT
Okay okay, the bush walk.

SOPHIE
Please yourself.

BRETT
If I was pleasing myself, I'd be
playing tennis.  I'm doing it to
please you.

SOPHIE
I've already got someone to go
with.

BRETT
Who?

SOPHIE
Logan.

BRETT
As in berry?

SOPHIE
As in yummy.

BRETT
You've never mentioned a Logan
before.  Why have you been
keeping him a dark secret?

SOPHIE
I only met him last night.  We had a
dance.

BRETT
One dance and he thinks he's got
a right to take you into the bush.  I
wouldn't trust a fast mover like that.

SOPHIE
It's a bush walk, not an orgy.

BRETT
I'd better come along to protect
you, in case he turns out to be a
dangerous psycho-killer.

SOPHIE
I can protect myself.  I've done
martial arts.

He looks at her in surprise.

BRETT
Good God.  Then how would you
like to be my bodyguard?  There's
a vacancy.

SOPHIE
No thanks.

BRETT
I see.  Now that you've got Logan,
I can go suck.

SOPHIE
You're the one who fired me.

BRETT
And now we're not professionally
involved, it's the perfect
opportunity for us to become
friends.

SOPHIE
Just friends?

He gestures vaguely.

BRETT
Who knows where it might lead?

SOPHIE
Might?  Don't strain yourself.

BRETT
You've got to give these things time.

SOPHIE
For what?

BRETT
Getting to know each other.

SOPHIE
My God, I've looked after you for
two whole years and you don't even
know me?

BRETT
Well of course I know you, no doubt
about that, but in a PA sort of way.

SOPHIE
You never noticed I was a woman?

BRETT
Well yes, and a very attractive one.
I even defended you to Nina on that
very score.

SOPHIE
Defended?  What was I accused
of?

BRETT
She wanted me to get someone
uglier.  I said good-looking women
have as much right to work as
anyone.

SOPHIE
How noble of you.

BRETT
Besides, I told her, she may have a
certain charm and grace, but I
wasn't one to be taken in by such
things.

SOPHIE (grimly)
I see.

BRETT
No no, I had to say that, or she
would've made me fire you on the
spot.

SOPHIE
Well now you have, you can tell me
your true feelings.

BRETT
It's not that easy.

SOPHIE
Why not?

BRETT
Well for one thing, you've changed.
You used to be calm and
unflappable and efficient.  And I
admired you for that, because as
you know, I'm rather highly-strung.

SOPHIE
You should be.

BRETT
Sorry?

SOPHIE
You were supposed to be talking
about your feelings for me, not
digressing into your own boring
neuroses.

BRETT
I was trying to explain how I felt.
Take away my neuroses and what
are you left with?  A cypher.

SOPHIE
That's the kind of self-indulgent,
self-obsessed crap I'm sick of
hearing.

BRETT
Well you've certainly discovered
the art of brutal honesty.  Any other
unsuspected talents lurking in your
fair bosom?

SOPHIE
You're right.  You don't know me at
all.

BRETT
I'm not saying I don't appreciate
this new volatile side.  It just takes
a bit of getting used to.

SOPHIE
That's a lame excuse to avoid
giving me an answer.

BRETT
How can I possibly give you an
answer right now?  This has come
at the worst time imaginable.
Deserted by my fiancée, suffering
nervous exhaustion, I'm swimming
in an emotional vortex.

SOPHIE
You and your emotional vortex can
go to hell.

BRETT
Right.  We will.

He storms out.  She slams the door.

EXT  BUSH TRACK  DAY

Sophie and LOGAN walk along a track in thick bush.  He's fit
and tanned and obviously in his element.  Following some way
behind is a surreptitious Brett.  Too busy spying to watch where
he's going, he trips over a root.

He gets up, takes a stride and immediately collapses.  Cursing
under his breath, he massages his ankle.

He tries again, and this time manages to hobble along like a
sprightly centenarian.  Meanwhile Sophie and Logan have
disappeared around a bend.

Brett comes to a fork in the path.  He listens, but can't tell which
way the pair have gone.  He takes out a coin and tosses for it.

As he walks along, he hears voices and realises he's on the
wrong path.  He decides to take a short-cut through the bush.
The undergrowth becomes ever more dense as he struggles to
make his way through.

INT  HOTEL LOBBY  NIGHT

It's early evening and Sophie and Logan are on their way out to
catch a taxi.  They're both smartly dressed.  They encounter an
exhausted Brett, who staggers in, clothing torn and face all
scratched.

SOPHIE
My God, what happened?

BRETT
A bush walk happened.

SOPHIE
You didn't stay on the track?

BRETT
Do I look like a wuss?

LOGAN
People with that sort of attitude
cost others a lot of time and
expense when they get lost.

BRETT
Is that so? (to Sophie) Who's your
friend?

SOPHIE
This is Logan.  He works for
Search and Rescue.

Brett prods him with his finger.

BRETT
If it wasn't for people like me, you'd
be out of a job, so how's about a bit
of respect?

He staggers off in triumph.  Sophie shakes her head.

INT  HOTEL HALLWAY  NIGHT

Brett's outside his hotel room trying to open the door with his
key, but his hand's shaky and the lock refuses to co-operate.

BRETT
Don't you try your tricks on me
because I am not - repeat, not - in
the mood.

He kicks the door.  Wayne comes along.

WAYNE
What's wrong?

BRETT
Nothing.  Unless you work for the
Door Protection Society.

WAYNE
It's just you look a bit of a mess, no
offense.

BRETT
I was bush-walked, okay?

WAYNE
I thought it was supposed to be a
romantic outing.

BRETT
Well it wasn't.  In fact, my fiancée
and I have split up.  Satisfied?

He resumes his losing battle with the lock.

WAYNE
Here, let me.

He takes the key and opens the door for Brett.

BRETT
Remarkable sleight of hand.  You
must show me how it's done
sometime.

He goes inside, slamming the door.

INT  HOTEL RESTAURANT  NIGHT

Brett sits at a table, sipping wine and brooding.  SIMONE,
stylish and attractive, comes up.

SIMONE
Mind if I join you?

There are plenty of spare tables and Brett starts to object...

BRETT
As a matter of fact...

... but then notices her more fully and is impressed.

BRETT
I'd be offended if you didn't.

She takes a seat.  The table's set for two, and Brett offers to fill
her wine glass.

BRETT
May I?

SIMONE
Please.

She takes a sip, and appears to be studying him.

SIMONE
I'm a photographer.

BRETT
Oh?

SIMONE
And professionally speaking, you
have an interesting face.

BRETT
Two eyes, a nose and a mouth.
Standard issue, really.

SIMONE
You're too modest.

BRETT
I know.  My one bad habit.

SIMONE
Eminent historian or director of an
art gallery - am I close?

He leans forward.

BRETT
You could be closer.

SIMONE
Okay, you have me.  I'll need a clue.

BRETT
It involves crime.

SIMONE
Drug lord.

BRETT
More in the murder line.

SIMONE
Assassin.

BRETT
Sorry, I just write about it.

SIMONE
What a shame.

She laughs.  After a pause, he also laughs.  Wayne enters the
restaurant.  She waves to him.  Brett's alarmed to see who it is.

BRETT
No no, don't do that.

SIMONE
He's my brother.

BRETT
Oh him.  I thought you were waving
at that other guy.

SIMONE
What other guy?

Brett pretends to look for him.

BRETT
He's gone.  Thank God.  He's a
real pain.

Wayne comes over and immediately sits down.

WAYNE
You know my sister?  That is so
cool.

BRETT
We're just getting acquainted.

SIMONE
You two have met?

WAYNE
This is Brett Devlin.

She looks at Brett blankly.

WAYNE
The writer. (To Brett)  Oops, I forgot.
Incognito.

SIMONE
It's okay, he told me.

WAYNE
He did?

BRETT
She forced it out of me.

WAYNE
Hey, did you hear about the
murder?

SIMONE
He's on holiday.  Let's talk about
something else.

WAYNE
No, a real one.  Not far from here.
They found a body in the bush.

Brett fingers the menu.

BRETT
Tragic.  What do I fancy for
dessert?

WAYNE
I though you'd be interested.

BRETT
Me?  Why?

WAYNE
Murder's your specialty.

BRETT
Nobody's died reading my books.
Have you killed anyone with your
swords?

WAYNE
I use blades.  I'm experimenting
with the use of fake blood.

SIMONE
Let's change the subject.

WAYNE
How come your descriptions are
so convincing?

BRETT
I've got - had - a good researcher.
(to Simone) Care to join me in a
crème de menthe sundae?

SIMONE
Why not?

WAYNE
By the way, I gave your name to the
cops.

BRETT
What?  How?  Where?  Why?

WAYNE
They were asking for people who'd
been in the bush today.

Brett goes pale.

WAYNE
It's just standard procedure.  But
then you'd know that better than me.

BRETT
My God, I don't have an alibi.

SIMONE
They're not likely to suspect
someone like you.

BRETT
Of course not.  That's why I'm
perfectly calm, completely relaxed.
Breathe in, breathe out.

Two uniformed cops enter.  Brett sees them, deliberately drops
his fork on the floor and dives under the table.

Wayne waves to the cops, who come over.  He points
downward.  The first cop crouches down and stares at Brett.

BRETT
I dropped my fork.  Is that a crime?

1ST COP
We'd like a few words, sir.

Brett regains his seat with as much dignity as he can muster.

BRETT
I'm in the middle of a crème de
menthe sundae.

SIMONE
We can have it another time.

BRETT
Well fine.  Sundae be damned.
But tell me this, how do you know
my name?

2ND COP
We haven't said it.

BRETT (to Simone)
Very cunning, aren't they?

1ST COP
We're just speaking to people
who've been in the bush today.  I
assume you've heard about the
murder?

BRETT
Murder?  What murder?

WAYNE
I told you.

BRETT
Oh that murder.  I thought they
meant another one.  They should've
said first murder, although that
implies a second, so it's all very
confusing.

1ST COP
Could you accompany us, please?

BRETT
But it's pointless.  I know nothing.
Less than nothing.

2ND COP
Are you refusing to co-operate?

BRETT
I'm not refusing, I'm merely
explaining.  Would you like me to
confess to something I didn't do?
Save you all the bother of finding
the real murderer, eh?

The MAITRE D' comes up.

MAITRE D'
Is there a problem, gentlemen?

BRETT
No no, they want to arrest me for
murder, but I'm talking my way out
of it.

SIMONE
Brett, I think you should go with
them.  It'll be all right.

BRETT
It will?

She taps his hand.  He deflates into meek compliance,
nodding dumbly then trudging off with the two cops.

Wayne gives his sister a quizzical look.  She shrugs.

INT  BEDROOM - BRETT'S HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Mid-morning.  Sophie draws back the curtains to let in the light.
A morose Brett is sitting up in bed, staring at the wall.

SOPHIE
Now isn't that a lot more bright and
cheerful?

BRETT
That's why I had them shut.

SOPHIE
I hear you made an exhibition of
yourself last night at the restaurant.

BRETT
Who told you that?

SOPHIE
The waiter at breakfast.

BRETT
I got a little over-excited, that's all.

SOPHIE
And how are you now?

BRETT
Resigned to my fate.

SOPHIE
What nonsense.

BRETT
You think I should fight?

SOPHIE
No, I think you should stop talking
nonsense.

BRETT
They don't believe my story about
getting lost.  They said only an idiot
would leave the path.

SOPHIE
Well there were plenty of signs
warning you not to.

BRETT
It shouldn't be illegal to be an idiot.
Statistically, idiots are no more
likely to cause harm than anyone
else.

SOPHIE
Except through their stupidity.

BRETT
You believe I'm guilty too?

SOPHIE
Yes.  Guilty of wallowing when
outside is such a gorgeous day.

BRETT
When you're facing a murder rap,
everything fades to grey.

SOPHIE
So what else have they got on you?

BRETT
I checked in under a false name.

SOPHIE
For professional reasons.

BRETT
And what's my profession?
Devising gruesome ways for
people to die.  Don't worry, I kept
your name out of it.

SOPHIE
They let you go, didn't they?

BRETT
I have to stick around or notify them.
I'm under virtual house arrest.

SOPHIE
Not quite.  And there are worse
places to be confined to.

BRETT
To be honest, I'm getting bored.
All I do is eat, drink and lounge
about.

SOPHIE
Why don't you do some writing?

BRETT
Because I'm supposed to be
relaxing.

SOPHIE
I didn't mean your usual grim stuff.
Something lighter, cheerier.

BRETT
Sure, I'll just knock off a few love
sonnets.

SOPHIE
It was just a suggestion.

BRETT
You meant well, I know.  And I'm
sorry I fired you.  The job's yours
again.

SOPHIE
Thanks but it's time I moved on
anyway.

BRETT
Was I that much of an ogre?

SOPHIE
Don't get all het up.  A variety of
work experience is good for the
CV.

BRETT
Then I apologise for not firing you
sooner.  You could've been
president of some multi-national by
now.

SOPHIE
How come your sarcasm never
takes a holiday?

BRETT
Are you going Loganberrying
today?

SOPHIE
I'll be seeing him, yes.  You should
give him a chance, he's a great
guy.

BRETT
What a pity I'm not gay.

She puffs up his pillows, replaces them and leaves.  He
continues staring at the wall for several moments then eyes his
pen and writing pad.  He picks them up, pauses for thought,
then begins scribbling furiously.

EXT  HOTEL CAFE  DAY

Brett sits drinking coffee with Simone and Wayne.  Sophie and
Logan are at a nearby table gazing into each other's eyes.
Wayne follows the direction of Brett's focus.

WAYNE
Is that your ex-fiancée?

BRETT
Never seen her before in my life.

Sophie gives Brett a little wave.

BRETT
Okay yes, she's my ex-fiancée.

WAYNE
She hasn't wasted any time scoring
a new guy.

BRETT
She's perfectly entitled to see
whoever she wants, the little tart.

SIMONE
You're jealous.

BRETT
Not in the least.  If I wanted to look
like a Greek God, I'd work out.

Wayne saws through a bread roll and accidentally cuts himself.

WAYNE
Damn.

Brett sees the blood and freezes in horror.  He clutches his
chest and keels over, unconscious.

SIMONE
Oh my God, he's had a heart attack.
Is anybody here a doctor?  We
need a doctor.

Sophie runs over.  Wayne puts a glass to Brett's mouth then
checks for condensation.

WAYNE
He's still breathing.

People start crowding around.  Sophie tries to shoo them off.

SOPHIE
Give him air, give him air. (to
Wayne) What happened?

WAYNE
I don't know, I was distracted.  I cut
my finger.

SOPHIE
Let me see.

WAYNE
It's not important.

SOPHIE
Yes it is.  Quick.

He shows her his finger.  She sighs in relief.

SOPHIE
It's okay, everyone, he's fine.  False
alarm.  No heart-attack.  Show's
over.

The crowd reluctantly disperse.

SIMONE
I don't understand.

SOPHIE
He can't stand the sight of blood.
Glass of water?

Wayne hands her a glass.

WAYNE
How are you going to get him to
drink it?

SOPHIE
I'm not.

She pours the water over Brett's face.  He revives, coughing
and spluttering.  Wayne takes Simone aside.

WAYNE
There's something weird going on.

SIMONE
How do you mean?

WAYNE
His books are full of gory details.
So how comes he faints at a mere
drop of blood?

They turn and observe Sophie still ministering to the stricken
Brett.

INT  HOTEL  HALLWAY  DAY

A HOTEL MAID  wheels along a linen trolley, stopping at rooms
to replace towels.  Wayne peers from around the corner,
watching her progress.  She unlocks  the door to Brett's room
and goes inside.  He darts along, pries open the door
cautiously and follows her in.

INT BRETT'S HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Wayne just has time to duck behind the couch as the maid
returns from the bathroom with the old towels.  She goes out,
locking the door.

INT  BEDROOM - BRETT'S HOTEL ROOM  DAY

Wayne enters the bedroom and rummages around.  He
discovers Brett's pages of writing on the floor by the bed.  He
flicks through them, his eyes widening as he reads, then stuffs
the pages into his jacket and goes out.

EXT  HOTEL POOLSIDE  DAY

Sophie and Logan are in the pool, splashing each other.  Brett
marches up and signals frantically to get Sophie's attention.
She pretends not to notice, instead grabbing Logan for a kiss.

BRETT
Sophie.  Sophie.

SOPHIE
Go away.  I'm busy.

BRETT
How can you be busy?  You're in a
swimming pool.

SOPHIE
Watch.

She kisses Logan again.

BRETT
It's an emergency.

SOPHIE
Can't it wait?

BRETT
Note the word 'emergency'.  As in
dire panic.  Alarm bells, sirens,
whoop whoop.

She ignores him.

BRETT
I said whoop whoop.  Warning
warning.  Danger danger.

He makes the sound and gestures of an explosion.  A small
boy running past bumps Brett, who windmills in vain to regain
his balance then plunges headfirst into the pool.

INT  BRETT'S HOTEL ROOM  DAY

The room's in a state of disarray.  Sophie sits on the couch, a
towelling robe over her swimsuit, while Brett paces the room in
his bathrobe.

SOPHIE
I don't understand. You misplaced
a few papers.  Why the fuss?

BRETT
Misplaced?  I've turned the place
upside-down.

SOPHIE
Then they're probably buried under
the mess you created.

BRETT
They're gone, I tell you.  And it's
all your fault.

SOPHIE
Mine?  I haven't taken them.

BRETT
I know, but you were the one who 
told me to write.  If I hadn't written,
they couldn't have disappeared.

SOPHIE
I only suggested.

BRETT
I'm very suggestible.  I took your
advice and now I'm doomed.

SOPHIE
What did you write about, for God's
sake?

BRETT
What do you think?  I'm a crime
writer.

SOPHIE
Murder?

BRETT
Yes, murder.  You understand me?

SOPHIE
No.

BRETT
Okay, not murder.  The murder.

SOPHIE
The one in the bush?

BRETT
Yes.  So now I'm implicated.

SOPHIE
How?

BRETT
I wrote in the first person.  It was a
searing portrayal of the demented
mind of a killer.

SOPHIE
Is there anything else missing?

BRETT
Isn't that enough?  I'm ruined,
absolutely ruined.  Who cares what
else they took?  I won't be needing
it in prison.  Oh God, doomed to
spend the rest of my days in chains.

SOPHIE
There is such a thing as parole.

BRET
I wouldn't last that long.  The
degradation would kill me.  Just
think, I'd have to socialise with
murderers.

SOPHIE
You could treat it as research.

BRETT
Why do I get the impression
you're not taking this seriously?

SOPHIE
Well you do go on.  No-one's
going to arrest you for sketching
an account of the murder.

BRETT
I'm already their number one
suspect.  And now I've as good
as signed a confession.

SOPHIE
The maid probably threw them
out with the rubbish.

BRETT
Rubbish?  How could she
mistake them for rubbish?

SOPHIE
Weren't they just rough jottings?

BRETT
Exactly, creating an impression
of raw authenticity.

She nods, unconvinced.

BRETT
So you think my books are
rubbish?

SOPHIE
I never said that. (shrugs) They
sell.

BRETT
But you don't like them.

SOPHIE
Crime isn't my thing.

BRETT
Yet you became my assistant.

SOPHIE
You paid me.

BRETT (hurt)
I see.

SOPHIE
Why don't you speak to the
maid?

BRETT
Because I've had enough literary
criticism for one day.

SOPHIE (sighs)
Just because I'm not a gushing fan.
And it's only my opinion - what
does it matter?

BRETT
I care about your opinion.  Well
maybe I could live without that
particular one.  It's more the person
attached to the opinion I care about.

A pause.  They look at each other.

SOPHIE
Really?

BRETT
I love you, and if I lose you, I'll have
another breakdown.

SOPHIE
That is so typical of you to spoil it.

BRETT
What do you mean?

SOPHIE
You couldn't just say you love me.
Oh no.  You had to throw in
emotional blackmail.  If I don't love
you back, you'll have another
breakdown.

BRETT
That was to show my depth of
feeling.

SOPHIE
You don't have any depth of feeling.
You're an egotistical manipulator.

BRETT
We all have our faults.

SOPHIE
Yes and mine's putting up with you
for so long.  Well no more. You can
have your stupid breakdown.

She goes out, leaving him open-mouthed.

INT  HOTEL BAR  NIGHT

Brett's at the counter drowning his sorrows.  He holds out  his
glass to CHERRY, the barmaid.

BRETT
We need more love in the world,
don't you think?

CHERRY
I think you've had enough.

BRETT
That's what my fiancée thinks - or
PA or whatever she calls herself.
When it comes to love, I'm Oliver
Twist and I can't have any more.

CHERRY
I'll make you a coffee though.

BRETT
You're inviting me for coffee?  I
hardly know anything about you -
except you have a very sweet smile.

CHERRY
You're paying for the coffee.

BRETT
Oh that sort of coffee.  Well why
didn't you say so?  Make it an Irish
and go easy on the coffee.

She makes the coffee then hands it to him.  He sniffs it
suspiciously.

BRETT
What's in it?

CHERRY
Coffee.

He turns to a MAN seated beside him, who's studying his scotch.

BRETT
She put coffee in my coffee.  You
gotta watch 'em.

MAN
Story of my life.

Brett returns his attention to Cherry.

BRETT
Tell me, if I were to profess my
undying love to you - well not you
personally because you make
people pay for coffee - but
someone like you... What was the
question again?

CHERRY
I have no idea.

BRETT
If I said I loved you, would you tell
me to have a breakdown?

CHERRY
I've never used that line before but
thanks, I'll try it some time.

BRETT
Huh?

CHERRY
On guys who can't take a hint.

BRETT
Glad to be of service.

He slips off the bar-stool and crashes to the ground.  He
clambers up again.

BRETT
Wow - what did you put in that
coffee?

INT  HOTEL HALLWAY  NIGHT

Brett staggers along till he comes to Sophie's door.  He knocks.
She opens.  She's in an elegant evening dress and holding a
cocktail.

BRETT
Oh good, you've still got your
clothes on.

SOPHIE
What?

BRETT
I mean you haven't gone to bed yet
so I'm not interrrupting anything.

SOPHIE
Yes you are.

She slams the door in his face.  He addresses the door.

BRETT
Why can't we talk about this like
civilised people?  We're civilised
people, aren't we?

Wayne happens along.

WAYNE
What's wrong?

BRETT
I was trying to be civilised.  Why
can't we all just get along?

Wayne glances at the door.

WAYNE
Who's in there?

BRETT
My ex-fiancée.  I wanted to talk in a
civilised manner because
civilisation is the key.  Without
civilisation the door remains locked.

WAYNE
How about I knock?

BRETT
Would you, ol' buddy, ol' pal?

Wayne knocks. Sophie opens the door, thinking it's Brett.  She
tosses her drink in Wayne's face and slams the door.

BRETT
I don't think she likes you.

INT  BRETT'S HOTEL ROOM  NIGHT

Brett picks up the phone and rings a number.

BRETT
Police?  Hi, how's things..?  No no,
it's not a social call.  I'd like to
make a confession.

INT  POLICE PRISON CELL  NIGHT

A POLICE GUARD unlocks the door to the holding cell where
Brett sits mournfully.  Sophie goes inside.

SOPHIE
What the hell do you think you're
playing at?

BRETT
Does this look like a game?  Am I
having fun?

SOPHIE
You're an idiot.  You deserve to be
locked up.

BRETT
I told you the cops had it in for me
but no, you wouldn't believe me.

SOPHIE
They didn't arrest you for murder.
You're in for wasting police time.

BRETT
It's a trumped-up charge to hold me
while they manufacture evidence.

SOPHIE
You're so pathetic.  You're only
doing this for attention.

BRETT
I had to confess to writing those
pages.  Otherwise if they'd fallen
into the cops' hands, it would've
looked bad.

SOPHIE
And this looks good, does it?

BRETT
How was I to know they'd think I
was confessing to the actual
murder?

SOPHIE
Why didn't you just shut up?  Why?

BRETT
I told you.  I wanted to straighten
things out.

SOPHIE
No you didn't.  You wanted to
embroil me in your twisted neurotic
scheming.

BRETT
I just wanted you to take me
seriously.

SOPHIE
How can I, when you pull stunts like
this?

BRETT
If you were to have a flaw, and I'm
not saying you do, it would be
kicking a man when he's down.

SOPHIE
I came here to arrange your
release.  They're doing the
paperwork now.

BRETT
I'm getting bail?

SOPHIE
For God's sake, stop this ridiculous
charade.  You're not a murder
suspect.  But I hope they fine you.

BRETT
Anything for freedom.  We'll
celebrate.  Champagne's on me.

SOPHIE
You can do whatever you want.  But
don't include me.  After this, I'm
having nothing more to do with you.
Ever.

She motions to the guard, who lets her out.  The door slams
shut on a shocked Brett.

PART TWO

EXT  BALCONY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Brett sits at a table on the balcony of his high-rise apartment.
He's staring into space while his agent AL ACORN buzzes
around impatiently.  Al dresses in a style that would make a
Hollywood producer look like a merchant banker in comparison.

BRETT
Great view, isn't it?

AL
Yeah yeah, someone should frame
it and hang it on the wall.  How
many pages have you written
today?

BRETT
I've been busy.

AL
Doing what?

BRETT
The view doesn't admire itself.

AL
Please tell me it gives you
inspiration.

BRETT
It does.

AL
That's good, that's good.  Show me
what you got.

BRETT
It's not something I can put into
words.  Unless maybe a zen poem.

AL
Your readers don't speak zen.  I
can't sell zen.

BRETT
It's called a haiku.  There's a
famous line about the sound of one
hand clapping.

AL
That's me applauding your output.
Come on, come on, you gotta give
me something.  Otherwise I don't
eat.

BRETT
No chance.  You'd sooner give up
oxygen.

AL
What can I do to help you produce?
Tell me, tell me.

BRETT
How about shutting up?

AL
That'll work?

BRETT
No but do it anyway.  You're
droning.

AL
Think of your fans.

BRETT
The only people who read my stuff
are the sick and twisted.

AL
Hey, I read your stuff.

BRETT
Using Aristotlian logic, what
conclusion can we draw?

AL
Just hit me with whatever you got.
Ideas?  Plots?

BRETT
There's zilch.  Zippo.

AL
Okay, you've got a mild case of
writer's block.  Nothing to panic
about.

BRETT
Who's panicking?

AL
Me.  And it's not good.  I've got a
heart condition.

BRETT
Don't you need a heart first?

AL
It's not something to joke about.

BRETT
Or alter your diet for.

AL
The thing is, under bad investment
advice, I've lost all my money.

BRETT
You should only listen to good
advice.

AL
That's good advice.  Along with -
don't get old or take on writers who
get block.

BRETT
Things'll work out.  They always do. 

AL
Who is this person?  I don't
recognise him.  Bring back the old
Brett.

BRETT
You should learn to chill out like me.

AL
Chill out?  More like suspended
animation.

BRETT
Don't you have other writers to
harass?

Al shuffles his feet.

BRETT
What happened?

AL
They used the same investment
adviser I did.

BRETT
Why?

AL
I recommended him.

BRETT
So they blame you?

AL
You know writers - touchy touchy.

Brett pours himself another drink, aparently unconcerned.
Nevertheless Al's a little uneasy.

AL
By the way, I didn't mention him to
you, did I?

BRETT (shrugs)
You may have.

AL
Yeah but you're all right though,
aren't you?  I mean you haven't
screamed blue murder.

Brett continues admiring the view.

AL (now suspicious)
You have checked your mail,
haven't you?
 
BRETT (sighs)
Yes.  She never wrote.

AL
Who?

BRETT
Sophie.

AL
I was talking things like financial
statements.

BRETT
She was my PA, not my accountant.

INT  STUDY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Al enters and sees Brett's desk piled high with unopened mail.
He rummages till he finds a significant-looking envelope.

EXT  BALCONY  - BRETT'S APARTMENT

Al hands Brett the envelope.

AL
Open it.

Brett glances at it and tosses it aside.

BRETT
You.

AL
I can't, it's private.

BRETT
Suit yourself.

He takes a sip, while Al fumes for several seconds before
furiously tearing open the envelope.  He reads it then throws it
down.

AL
You listened to me!  What the hell
do I know about investment?

BRETT
The man who knows nothing,
knows more than the man who
thinks he knows something -
Socrates.

AL
At least you're taking this
philosophically. (pause) You're not
going to dump me too, are you?

BRETT
No, but the old Brett would have.

AL
Let's look on the bright side.  We're
both in this together.

BRETT
In what?

AL
Financial shtook.  And what's going
to get us out?

BRETT
You go to work in a salt mine and
pay me monthly installments?

AL
Ha ha, not funny.  No - you write a
bestseller.

BRETT
Also not funny.  I told you - the well's
dry.

AL
Hey, remember my heart condition.

BRETT
What's your EEG?

AL
My what?

BRETT
Have you even seen a specialist?

AL
No, but my doc reckons I'm a prime
candidate.  I think he was talking
about the stress.

BRETT
You thrive on stress like a weed in
manure.

AL
And what about you?

BRETT
I've got this view.

AL
Which you may not be able to
afford for much longer.

BRETT
Okay, so what do we do?

AL
Let me think. (pause) Sophie.  You
mentioned Sophie.

BRETT
I miss her.

AL
Maybe that's the key.

BRETT
How?

AL
You can't write because your PA
quit.  A little bizarre but who
understands the artistic
temperament? (pause) I've got it.

BRETT
What?

AL
We hire another.

BRETT
You're missing the point.  I love her.

AL
Love?  As in love?

BRETT
It happens sometimes between
people.

AL
Yeah but you and Sophie?  I mean,
it didn't work out, a tragedy, a real
tragedy, fixed only by burying
yourself in work.

BRETT
Have you ever had a broken heart?

AL
If you don't start writing, you'll see it
break right in front of you.

Brett checks his watch.

BRETT
Time for my nap.

AL
After a gruelling lounge in your
deck-chair.  Yeah, that figures.

Brett bends over, picks up a sign and places it on the table.  It
reads - DO NOT DISTURB.  Al rolls his eyes.

INT  SOPHIE'S OFFICE  DAY

A smart, well-appointed office of a large public relations firm.
Al settles into the comfortable leather chair and swivels around,
while Sophie observes him coolly from behind her desk.

AL
Nice.  I see you've landed on your
feet.

SOPHIE
Normally people have an
appointment to see me.

AL
I'm not normal.

SOPHIE
Nor 'people'.

AL
Come on, we're friends, right?

SOPHIE
No.

AL
Okay but we were colleagues.

SOPHIE
It's not a point in your favour
reminding me of the fact.

AL
Hey, was I ever obnoxious to you?

Her look turns icy.

AL
I mean intentionally.

SOPHIE
Who knows?  I can't even work out
if your wardrobe is intentional.

AL
Anyway, I'm not here to be
obnoxious, I'm here to grovel.

SOPHIE
I'm sure you'll find a way of
combining the two.

AL
Okay, forget about me.  It's Brett.
He needs you.

SOPHIE
Why?

AL
He made some bad investments
and is now facing financial
oblivion.

SOPHIE
Then he doesn't need me, he
needs money.

AL
And to get that, he has to write.
Which is where you come in.

SOPHIE
No, this where security comes in,
after I call them to have you
thrown out.

AL
Will you at least consider it?

SOPHIE
No.

AL
Why not?

SOPHIE
Because I know what he's doing.

AL
He's not doing anything.  That's
the problem.

SOPHIE
He's up to his old tricks again.
Well I have a good job where I'm
respected.  I'm not giving it up to
play wet-nurse to his pathetically
fragile ego.

AL
He doesn't want you as his PA.
He wants you as a person.

SOPHIE
How can he?  He doesn't know
me as a person.

AL
He's pining away.

SOPHIE
I'll bet he's making a real
production of it.  Maybe even
hired violinists.

AL
I never picked you for the cynical
sort.

SOPHIE
I've wised up.

AL
Then check this out for misery.

He pulls out a photo and passes it to her.

SOPHIE
It looks like he's comfortably
ensconced in a deck-chair, sipping
a cool drink and admiring the view.

AL
No no, he's listlessly slumped,
boozing himself to death and
staring vacantly into space.

She remains unconvinced.

AL
It gets worse.

He hands her another photo.

SOPHIE
Okay so the place is a mess.  I'm
not going back to be his
housekeeper.

AL
No no, it's a symptom of his inner
decay.

SOPHIE
If Brett really is serious about
wanting me back, why did he
send you?

AL
He didn't.  He's given up.  I'm his
only hope.

She raises an eyebrow.

AL
Us.  We're his only hope.

She stares at him hard.

AL
You.  You're his only hope.

SOPHIE
I'll think about it.  But on one
condition.

AL
Name it.

SOPHIE
You get out of my office.

AL
With pleasure.

He goes out then pokes his head back in.

AL
I didn't mean that the way it
sounded.

SOPHIE
Out.

He disappears.  She leans back in her chair and sighs.

INT  BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Brett opens the door to an excited Al, who rushes in, skids on
the glossy wooden floor and lands face down in a rug.

AL
What hit me?

BRETT
The floor.  It's been polished.

Al gets up and wanders around in amazement.

AL
It looks like a poltergeist has struck,
but in reverse.

BRETT
Commercial cleaners.

EXT  BALCONY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Al follows Brett onto the balcony.  Brett settles into his chair with
an orange juice and jotter pad.  He scribbles a few lines,
watched by Al, eager for an explanation.

BRETT
I had a surprise visit from Nina.

AL
Yeah?  And how is your little iron
petal?

BRETT
She's forgiven me.

AL
What for?

BRETT
No idea.

AL
You didn't ask?

BRETT
With Nina it pays not to delve.

AL
So you're back together again?

BRETT
Appparently.  She heard about my
situation and decided I needed
rescuing.

He turns to Al.

AL
Why are you looking at me?  I didn't
blab.

BRETT
You've dedicated your life to the art
of blabbing.

AL
I meant not to Nina.  And it's called
networking.

Brett returns to his jotter.

AL
Hey, you're writing.  That's great.
Fantastic.

BRETT
No, it's an ancient skill that's been
practised for thousands of years.

AL
I didn't realise you were that old.

BRETT
Nina will be back any moment.

AL
Thanks for the warning.  I'm outa
here.

He goes inside.  Brett takes another sip and busies himself in
writing.

INT  STUDY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Brett's typing away at his computer as NINA enters.  She's
modishly dressed and wearing make-up that overshadows
rather than enhances her natural beauty.

NINA
Good, you're writing again.  You
see how beneficial I am?

BRETT
It's only a start.

NINA
Well naturally.  I only came back to
you this morning.  Now guess what?

BRETT
I always lose that game.

NINA
I've managed to get us seats to
tonight's opera.

BRETT
Opera?

NINA
The gala performance, so you
know what that means.

BRETT
The men swaddle up and the
women skimp down.

NINA
The tickets weren't easy to get.  Not
that I had to sleep with anyone, but
you might be a tad more
appreciative.

BRETT
I am.  Really.  It's just that I'm not in
an opera mood.

NINA
It's not the Ring cycle, darling, just
some light Mozart.

BRETT
Mozart is psychologically draining.

NINA
Don't be silly, it's elaborate
costumes and pleasant music.

BRETT
All the same...

She holds up a warning hand.

NINA
Consider it part of your therapy.
 We don't want a relapse.  Because
guess who'll have to pick up the
pieces.

BRETT
Commercial cleaners?

NINA
I see your humour has lost none of
its tartness.  Fortunately constant
exposure to it has bred immunity.

She proffers her cheek.

NINA
Now kiss kiss and I'll be off.

BRETT
But you've just got here.

NINA
I was just checking to see if you
were okay and things were under
control.  You can't expect me to be
around you every second of the day.

He takes her by the hand and into...

INT  BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

... the living area, where he draws her onto the couch.

BRETT
Let's sit and talk.

NINA
Be specific.

BRETT
Okay then - holidays.  Let's discuss
holiday plans.

NINA
I believe you had one not so long
ago.

BRETT
That's something I'd rather forget.
And anyway, isn't it important we
look to the future?

NINA
As long as you realise I'm not
clairvoyant.

BRETT
How about somewhere exotic?

NINA
Just a moment.

She calls a number on her cellphone.

NINA (phone)
Percy, do I have a window
tomorrow?

She looks at Brett.

NINA
Half an hour?

BRETT
Half an hour?

NINA (phone)
Make it an hour, even though I hate
sandwiching.  Put Brett dash
holidays comma exotic.  Oh and I'll
need research but I'll talk to you
later.

She rings off.

BRETT
I meant now.

NINA
Now is my manicure.

BRETT
And it can't be cancelled?

NINA
In an emergency, yes.  Hardly the
definition of holiday chat.

She gets up to leave.

BRETT
Okay how about we dispense with
words altogether?

He pulls her toward him.

BRETT
I want you and I want you now.

NINA
Let's not run before we can walk.

BRETT
I am not an invalid.

NINA
Tone, darling.

BRETT
My God, I used a tone.  I must be a
- wait for it - gasp - human being.
Here you are, sprouting talons and
wanting to fly off and what do I do?
 I obstruct you with a tone.

NINA
Don't forget - tonight - opera.

She kisses him on the cheek and goes out.  He slumps back
onto the couch.

INT  BEDROOM - BRETT'S APARTMENT  NIGHT

Brett's fighting a losing battle with his bow-tie.  Nina enters, a
vision of frilly elegance.

NINA
Aren't you ready yet?  We're going
to be late.

BRETT
I don't think Mozart's in a position to
mind if we're a few minutes late to
his opera.

NINA
Let me.

She expertly fixes his bow-tie.

BRETT
Why can't the archaic costumes be
confined to the stage?

NINA
What's the story with Sophie?

BRETT
Once upon a time, I had a PA.
Twice upon a time, I didn't.

NINA
What exactly did happen between
you two at that resort?

BRETT
She accused me of being
self-absorbed.  Imagine!

NINA
That woman has no understanding
of the artistic temperament.

BRETT (pause)
Do you think we're right for each
other?

NINA
I'm here, aren't I?

BRETT
Yes and I'm grateful.  I was just
wondering, am I dragging you
down?

NINA
Quite possibly.

He looks at her.

NINA
Joke, darling.  You see, I can make
them too. (smiles) Women like to
be needed.

BRETT
Yet you left me when I needed you
most.

NINA
Così fan tutte.

She escorts him out.

INT  STUDY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Brett's tappping away furiously on his keyboard, surrounded by
piles of print-outs.  Al wanders in with a beer.

AL
How's it going?

BRETT
I'm a merciless destroyer of forests.

AL
Yeah, I see that.  Those words just
keep pouring out.

BRETT
You bet.

AL
And that's got to be a good sign,
right?

BRETT
You wanted me to produce - I'm
producing.

AL
Yeah yeah, don't stop.

He takes a swig of beer.  Brett starts typing, then feels Al's
eyes on him.  He stops and raises an eyebrow.

AL
Just a peek.

BRETT
Help yourself.

Al snatches up a pile of papers and takes them through to...

INT  BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

... the living area, where he settles on the couch with his beer
and a bowl of peanuts.  He begins reading.  He thumbs through
the pages with an expression of growing horror.

Brett enters from the study and pours himself a drink at the
mini-bar.

BRETT
Well?

AL
It's crap.  Utter crap.

BRETT
I know.

AL
A monkey could do better.

BRETT
Yes yes, and a bunch of them in a
room could produce Shakespeare,
given enough time.

AL
Do they need an agent?

BRETT
The only problem with that theory is
pi.

AL
They get distracted by food?

BRETT
Mathematical pi.  It's a number that
goes on forever, never repeating
itself.

AL
So?

BRETT
So it's an example of infinity.
Those damn monkeys will only ever
produce garbage.

AL (pause)
Okay, let's stay calm.  You're just a
bit rusty.

BRETT
I'm perfectly calm.  I'm also
perfectly empty.

He sits down depondently.

BRETT
I've got Nina,  I should be happy.

AL
Maybe you're too happy.

BRETT
What?

AL
Some people create better when
they're tormented.

BRETT
You're my agent.  That's torment
enough.

The phone rings.  Brett makes no move, so Al answers.

AL
Al Acorn, agent to the stars... Yeah,
yes he is... No no, he needs you
more than ever... Okay, 'bye.

He puts down the phone and punches the air jubilantly.

BRETT
Nina?

AL
Sophie.

Brett grabs him by the collar.

BRETT
And you didn't let me speak to her?

AL
Relax, she's coming over.

BRETT
She is?  Why?

AL
Hey, don't thank me.  What are
agents for?

Brett tightens his grip.

BRETT
Why?

AL
Because... I can't breathe.

BRETT
That's a non-sequitur.

He lets go.

AL
I showed her photos of your
high-price hovel and said it
mirrored your inner-self.

Brett glances around in horror at his spotless apartment.

BRETT
You moron.

AL
Like I said, don't thank me.

BRETT
She'll take one look and walk out.
I'll never see her again.

He paces about.

BRETT
Unless... we think of a brilliant plan.

AL (encouraging)
Yeah yeah.

Brett gestures expectantly to Al, who's at a loss.

AL
We tie her up?

BRETT
That's not brilliant.  That's not even
a plan.  That's an anti-plan.

AL
I was just getting the ball rolling.

BRETT
That's it!  And it's so obvious I'm
surprised you didn't think of it.

AL
My subtle streak showing through.

BRETT
We trash the place.

AL
What's the catch?

BRETT
Why should there be a catch?

AL
Because it's too easy.  Life isn't
easy.  If it was easy, I wouldn't be
broke.

BRETT
If you want to stay on as my agent,
start trashing.

Al tosses a cushion onto the floor.

BRETT
What the hell's that?

AL
I've got a better idea.

BRETT
You've already passed on the
chance to be brilliant.

AL
No listen.  We swap places.

BRETT
You're not having Sophie.  Anyway,
she doesn't like you.

AL
We say you've been living at my
house.

Brett looks at him.

AL
I had to loose the cleaner.

BRETT
No, we don't want to freak her out
completely.

Al picks up another cushion and drops it onto the ground.

BRETT
Stop.  Watch and learn.

He rips the cushion apart and pulls out the stuffing.  He then
sweeps books off shelves, smashes miniature sculptures and
overturns furniture.  Nina walks in on this scene of destruction
and catches Brett in an icy glare.  He freezes mid-action.

BRETT
Nina!  I was just - I was just - damn
it I'm sorry but it was too tidy.  I can't
create in sterility.  I must have
squalor.  I'm inspired by squalor.

She takes out her cellphone and calls a number.

BRETT
Um... what are you doing?

NINA
Phoning Dr Venables.

BRETT
No no, I'm explaining the situation.

She talks inaudibly into the phone.  Brett turns to Al.

BRETT
Al, do something.

Al kicks a smashed sculpture.

BRETT
We've moved on.

AL
Sure, what's next?

BRETT
Stop Nina.

They both focus on Nina.

NINA (phone)
Yes, tell him it's urgent.  And he'll
need back-up.

AL
How?

BRETT
Just get rid of her before Sophie
arrives.  Try the study.

AL
You mean like tie her up?

BRETT
What is it with you and the tying up?

AL
Your study doesn't have a lock.

BRETT
Just talk to her, okay?  Talk to her.

He pushes Al in Nina's direction.

AL
We gotta talk.

NINA
We've already tried that and there
was too much dead air.

AL
I mean about Brett.  But in private.
How about the study?

NINA
And who'll keep an eye on Brett?

AL
Me.

NINA
So what am I supposed to do - ring
you?

AL
Good idea.

He glances at Brett, who's pointing furiously at his watch.

NINA
Besides, you stood idly by while he
was destroying his apartment.

AL
Look, he isn't crazy.  He only did
this to impress the woman he loves.

NINA
I'm not impressed.

AL
You're not the woman he loves.

NINA
Then who is?

The doorbell rings.  She marches over and flings open the door,
revealing a surprised Sophie.

NINA
Sophie?

SOPHIE
Nina?

NINA
Well come in and admire his
handiwork.

SOPHIE
What?

She enters and looks around in
astonishment.

NINA
Impressed?

SOPHIE
I don't understand.

NINA
He did it deliberately.  For you.

Sophie turns to Brett.

SOPHIE
Is that true?

BRETT
Yes but.. only as a symbol of my
love for you.

SOPHIE
You are beyond the pale.

She storms out, slamming the door.

NINA
You see what a bad influence she
is.  And aren't you glad you have
me?

BRETT (resigned)
I'll be in my study.

He trudges off.  Nina rings on her cellpone.

NINA (phone)
Percy, operation cleanup part two.

INT  SOPHIE'S OFFICE  DAY

Al is seated before a clearly
unimpressed Sophie.

SOPHIE
How long did I give you last time?

AL
Not long enough.

SOPHIE
Which paradoxically was too long.

AL
It's about Brett.

SOPHIE
Let me guess - you have more
pictures to show.

AL
Not pictures - pages.

He slams a folder onto the desk.  She doesn't even glance at it.

AL
Read it and weep.

SOPHIE
I have a better idea.  You leave and
I rejoice.

AL
You might be big in public relations,
but in private you're...

She stops him with a warning look.

SOPHIE
Why are you plaguing me?  Have I
unwittingly triggered some curse
that's lain dormant for thousands of
years?  Maybe that charm bracelet
Brett gave me for Christmas.

AL
You know, you're starting to sound
like he used to.  Scary.

SOPHIE
What do you mean - used to?

He gestures at the folder.  She reluctantly picks it up and
begins flipping through the pages.

SOPHIE
So it's not his best.

AL
You wouldn't even use it for toilet
paper, right?

SOPHIE
He could be faking.

AL
You think he could fake something
that bad?  No wait, even bad
writing has something.  This has no
pulse.  You've turned him into a
love-zombie.

She laughs then cuts short.

SOPHIE
You're serious?

AL
Nina isn't doing it for him.

SOPHIE
Then why doesn't he drop her?

AL
If he does, will you come back?

SOPHIE
He doesn't have the guts.

AL
So we got ourselves a deal?

SOPHIE
While we're talking deals, include
dropping his agent.

AL
That's non-negotiable.

SOPHIE
Pity.

INT  BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

Brett's lying on the couch with an ice-pack on his forehead.  Al
rushes in.

AL
I did it, I did it.

BRETT
Do I look in the mood for
conversation?

AL
Who knows what you look like
under that ice-pack?  The point is,
Sophie's agreed to come back.

Brett jerks upright.

BRETT
She has?

AL
All you gotta do is drop Nina.

BRETT
Who me?

AL
Is that a great deal or what?

BRETT
The second.

AL
You expect Sophie to do it for you?

BRETT
I expect nothing.  This is your plan.

AL
And it's your relationship.  You have
to do it.  Even I know that.

BRETT
Yes but we're taking Nina here.

AL
Sophie was right.  She said you'd
wimp out.

BRETT
That hurts.

AL
You're gonna prove her wrong?

BRETT
No, it hurts because it's true.

AL
Hey, I'm your agent.  I believe in you.
But you gotta give me something to
work on.

BRETT
That's it!

AL
What?

BRETT
I delegate.

AL
You want me to deal it to Nina?

BRETT
No, she'd squash you like a bug.
I'm thinking another PA.  Specially
chosen.

AL
It doesn't matter.  It's not what they
do.

BRETT
So I thought of it first.  More credit
to me.

AL
If you don't do it yourself, she'll
never respect you.

BRETT
The hell with respect.  I just want her
love.

Al stares at him.

BRETT (sighs)
Okay okay, into the valley of death
and all that.

INT  BRETT'S APARTMENT  DAY

The following day.  Brett's sitting reading.  Nina arrives.  He
leaps up and presents her with an enormous bunch of flowers.

NINA
How sweet.  Unfortunately I can't
take them.

BRETT
But you must.  I mean - you're right.
They're utter crap.  What was that
flower girl thinking?  I told her you
deserved only the very best.  And
look what she gives me.  Psah.

He throws them onto the floor and jumps on them.

NINA
Darling!

BRETT
What?

NINA
Please calm down.  I have
something to say.

BRETT
I'm perfectly calm.

But he can't resist giving the flowers one last savage kick.

NINA
Brett!

BRETT
I'm fine, I'm fine.

He picks up his phone.

BRETT
Now let me just order some proper
ones... And what else?  Magnum of
champagne?

NINA
Put down the phone.

BRETT
Moet?

NINA
No.

BRETT
You're right.  Moet's crap.  Wouldn't
use it for dishwater.

NINA
Are you listening?

BRETT
Actually I have something to say
too.

She gives him an icy glare.

BRETT
Not that I'm pushing in.

NINA
I took some of your work for literary
analysis.

BRETT
Without asking?

Return of the icy glare.

BRETT
I mean - go on, go on.

NINA
If there was a spark - even the
tiniest of sparks - well then naturally
I'd stay.

BRETT
You're leaving me?

NINA
It's best for the both of us.

BRETT
Yes but you left me last time.  I
insist on taking a turn.

NINA
How kind of you to spare my
feelings.  Unfortunately I haven't got
time for a debate.

BRETT
No no no.  I'm leaving - you're
staying.

NINA
Don't be silly, this is your apartment.
And John's waiting for me in the car.

BRETT
John?  John who?

NINA
Smith, if you must know.

BRETT
You're leaving me for a John
Smith?

NINA
Take care.

She gives him a peck on the cheek and goes out.  He makes a
renewed attack on the flowers.

EXT  BALCONY - BRETT'S APARTMENT  NIGHT

Al finds Brett looking out over the side.

AL
You've been looking out here quite
a while.

BRETT
Which nosy neighbour dobbed me
in?

AL
You gotta come inside.

Brett doesn't move.

BRETT
It's all over.

Al whips out a pair of handcuffs and chains Brett to the railing.

BRETT
The hell?

AL
To stop you jumping.

BRETT
Why would I do a fool thing like
that?  I'd break my neck.

Short silence.

BRETT
I mean it's all over between me and
my little iron butterfly.

AL
Wasn't that the plan?

BRETT
You don't understand.  She left me.
For a John Smith.

AL
The name's important?

BRETT
I used to be a John Smith once.
Well some sort of a Smith.  Oh how
the wheel of fortune turns.

Another short silence.  Brett rattles the cuffs.

BRETT
Where did you get these?

AL
Present for my nephew.

BRETT
I wonder about  you sometimes.
(pause) You did bring a key?

Al takes the key out of his pocket and tries to unlock the
handcuffs but fumbles, accidentally dropping the key over the
railing.  They stare at each other a moment then Brett makes a
lunge for Al but is flung backwards by the cuffs.

INT  RESTAURANT  DAY

The restaurant is large and open, but subdued lighting creates
an intimate atmosphere.  Most of the lunch crowd has drifted
away.  Al, alone at a table, is joined by a newly arrived Brett.

BRETT
Okay, it better be important.

AL
You were writing?

BRETT
Sleeping.

AL
It's about Sophie.

BRETT
What's she said about me?

AL
Nothing.

BRETT
I knew it.  It's all the fault of that
blasted Smith.

AL
Will you shut up about the Smith?

BRETT
If you have a name like Smith, you
have to counter-balance with
something a little unusual.  Say
Cedric.  Why wasn't he called
Cedric, that's what I want to know.
Why the hell not Cedric?

AL
Maybe you should still be on
medication.

BRETT
I'm listening.

AL
She's seeing another guy.

BRETT
I know.  He's called John Smith.

AL
Not Nina - Sophie.

BRETT
Sophie and Smith?  You sure?
Sounds awfully twisted to me.

AL
Just take a look over your shoulder.

Brett turns and sees Sophie sitting at another table with a
well-dressed businessman.

BRETT
Could be a business lunch.

AL
You think I don't know lovey-dovey
when I see it?

BRETT
So now what?

AL
Time for action.

BRETT
Right.

He lounges casually.

AL
What are you doing?

BRETT
Playing it cool.

Al shakes his head sadly.

BRETT
Not working?

AL
From her distance, I bet it looks
more like braindead.

Brett jumps up and strides over to
Sophie's table.

BRETT
Sophie - what a coincidence.

SOPHIE
It is not.  Your jerk of an agent has
been following me.

Brett turns and glares at Al, who
grins and gives a little wave.

BRETT
It's hard to get good help.

SOPHIE
Or peace.

BRETT
So, I finally get to meet the great
John Smith.

KEN
Name's Ken.

BRETT
Middle?

SOPHIE
Go away.

BRETT
Don't mind if I do.

He sits down, tops up Sophie's glass with red wine and pours
the rest into a spare glass, which he drains.

BRETT
Oops, where's my manners?

He tips the bottle into Ken's glass, waiting patiently for the two
drops to emerge.

KEN
Who's John Smith?

BRETT
My nemesis.  If it wasn't for him,
Sophie and I would be together. 

SOPHIE
But we're not, so get lost.

BRETT
That's gratitude.  When I first met
her, she was on the street selling
matches.

KEN
And you are..?

BRETT
Brett Devlin.

KEN (to Sophie)
Should that mean something?

SOPHIE
No.

BRETT
Never tell this woman you love her.
That's the mistake I made.

KEN
And I bet you made quite a few.

BRETT
Priceless, isn't he?  Where do you
get them from?

Ken grabs Brett by the collar.

KEN
The lady said go.

BRETT
Sophie - her name's Sophie.

SOPHIE
Please - I want the both of you to
go.

BRETT (to Ken)
You first.

KEN
I don't understand.

SOPHIE
I'm sorry, neither do I.

Both men get up and walk away, eyeing the other warily.  Brett
returns to Al.

AL
What happened?

BRETT
She's gone off men.

AL
So what are you going to do?

BRETT
I've put her off for life.  What's else
is left?

AL
Do I have to draw a picture?

Brett takes out a pen and passes
him a napkin.

AL
Kiss her.

BRETT
Kiss her?

AL
Kiss her.

BRETT
What if I get done for assault?

AL
I'll go to jail as your accomplice.

BRETT
That's all right then.

He goes back over to Sophie's table.  She sips her wine,
pointedly ignoring him.  He swoops in for the kiss.  She
responds, but inadvertantly spills wine down her blouse.  She
squeals.  He jumps back in alarm.

BRETT
I'm sorry, I'm sorry.  Al made me do
it.

SOPHIE
I'm soaked.

BRETT
Forget about that.  What about the
kiss?

SOPHIE
What about it?

BRETT
You didn't mind?

SOPHIE
No.  Just the bloody wine.  It'll stain.

He stares in horror at the red blotch.

BRETT
Oh my God, it's an omen.  We're
doomed.  Doomed.

SOPHIE
There's only one thing for it.

She grabs a bottle of red wine off a passing waiter.

WAITER
Excuse me, but this isn't for you.

SOPHIE
I know.  Replace it with a vintage.
Brett's paying.

The waiter opens the bottle for her.  He pours a taster, which
she drinks and nods her approval.  However before he can fill
her glass, she takes the bottle off him and pours the entire
contents over Brett, then kisses him passionately.

INT  THEATRE LOBBY  NIGHT

People in evening dress mill about with drinks.  Brett stands
with Sophie in one corner, surveying the spectacle.

SOPHIE
I hope you haven't written a long
boring speech.

BRETT
Certainly not.  I've whittled it down
to twenty-four riveting pages.

SOPHIE
Everyone's here.  Even Neville
Strand.

BRETT
Who leaves no stone unturned in
search of cliché.

SOPHIE
Sy Tripp.  They say he's the one to
watch.

BRETT
Especially in a dark alley.

SOPHIE
Ealen Jarl.

BRETT
He puts the 'k' in punktuation.

SOPHIE
Oh and look - Anne Harris.

BRETT
The neutron bomb of editors.
Leaves the structure intact while
destroying all life.

SOPHIE
You could be a bit more charitable
toward your colleagues.

BRETT
Compared to what they say about
me, I'm charity incarnate.

Sophie goes off to talk to someone she's spotted.  Tess, a
young fan, comes up to Brett.

TESS
Your Inspector Howell is sooo like
my uncle.  How do you do it?

BRETT
Pure optical illusion.

TESS
Sorry?

BRETT
Like the eyes of a portrait that
follow you around the room.

He moves off, leaving behind one puzzled fan.  An excited Al
intercepts Brett.

AL
Hey, there's a guy I want you to
meet.  He's got movie connections.

BRETT
Al, what do you know about the
movie business?  You think Walt
Disney wrote the Little Mermaid.

AL
And what do I know about books?

BRETT
Okay, nothing.  Touché.

He moves off again in search of Sophie, finding her talking to a
friend.  He takes her hand and squeezes it.

SOPHIE
More like John Cleese thinking he's
Cary Grant.

The two women laugh.

BRETT
Who are you talking about?

SOPHIE
You.

She gives him a quick peck on the lips.  He smiles contentedly.

INT  THEATRE  NIGHT

Brett stands on the podium clutching his award.  He moves up
to the microphone.

BRETT
When I wrote "Dead Cert" I had no
idea I would end up here with this.
The title was meant to be ironic.
And so in the same vein, I'm
thinking of calling my next book "In
all Modesty". (pause) I would like to
thank all the usual suspects.  In
particular my agent Al Acorn, who
believed in me when no-one else
did.  At least that's how he justifies
his thirty-percent.

Some laughter.

AL
Hey, he's kidding.  It's ninety.

Louder laughter.

BRETT
By the way, Al, did I mention my
next book's going to be in rhyming
couplets?

AL
He thinks it's funny to give me a
heart-attack.

BRETT
I'd especially like to thank my
fiancée Sophie.  Oops, I knew
there was something I'd forgotten
to do.

He takes a diamond ring from his pocket and holds it up.

BRETT
My darling, will you marry me?

Silence as everyone turns to look at Sophie.  At first she shows
no sign of reaction, then she leans forward and whispers
something to the person in front.  That person does likewise
and so on until the message reaches the front row.  A man
climbs onto the stage and whispers into Brett's ear.  Brett
speaks into the microphone.

BRETT
Yes, you bastard.

The theatre bursts into applause.  Wayne, seated in the
audience, now makes his way up to the front.

WAYNE
Remember me?

Brett peers and frowns.

BRETT
Wayne?

WAYNE
Your number one fan.  Here's a
present you won't forget.

He pulls a gun and takes aim at Brett.  People scream.  Brett
stands transfixed.  Wayne fires.  A loud explosion is heard and
a red blotch wells up on Brett's shirt front.  He looks down and
goes deathly pale.

The scene freezes, but the sound of the commotion continues.

WAYNE (off)
I'm a magician.  It's fake blood.

The stain remains red, while Brett fades to grey.

THE END

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