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Phone Booth Movie Script

Writer(s) : Larry Cohen

Genres : Thriller

Search IMDb : Phone Booth















                          PHONE BOOTH

                              by

                          Larry Cohen


































	FADE IN:

	NEW YORK CITY - AERIAL VIEW OF DOWNTOWN MANHATTAN - DAY

	MULTIPLE STREET SCENES - DAY

	The sidewalks crowded as usual.  A sea of humanity.  People
	come and go -- always in a hurry.  Oblivious of one another.

	A TRAFFIC JAM -- A STREET being torn up by construction
	workers; A SANITATION TRUCK loading up refuse; VENDORS
	PEDDLING nuts and salted pretzels; PANHANDLERS blocking a
	passerby.  Intimidating.  Demanding.  Almost mocking.

	We're surrounded by the teeming life of the city as we've
	come to expect it -- complete with a cacophony of sound.

	MULTIPLE CUTS -- Phone kiosks and phone booths on the East
	Side and West Side -- uptown and down.

	One frustrated caller has lost his money in the slot and he
	takes it out on the equipment -- smashing the receiver
	violently against the coin box until the instrument splinters
	into a dozen pieces.

				NARRATOR
		There are 237,911 pay telephones in
		the five burroughs of the city of
		New York.  Many of them are still
		in working order.

	DOZENS OF QUICK CUTS --

	NEW YORKERS on the phone in extreme close up.  We don't hear
	the words.  Only the facial expressions inform us that these
	are human beings under tremendous pressure.  Life in the city
	is wearing them down.

	MULTIPLE SHOTS - JUST MOUTHS

	Lips jabbering into receivers.  Cross-cut against one
	another.

				NARRATOR
		Despite increased usage of cellular
		devices, an estimated four and a
		half million New Yorkers and two
		million visitors still utilize pay
		telephones on a regular basis.  At
		thirty-five cents a pop... for the
		first three minutes.

	ANGLE ON CORNER IN MID-MANHATTAN - DAY

	There's a phone booth situated on the southeast side of the
	street.

				NARRATOR
		You're looking at the telephone
		booth at the corner of 45th Street
		and 8th Avenue in the heart of the
		Manhattan theatrical district.  It
		has been scheduled to be removed
		and replaced by a kiosk.  It's one
		of the few remaining phone booths
		left in the city.

	CAMERA MOVES IN on the irate caller in the booth -- a very
	well-dressed gray-haired lady -- totally conservative in
	appearance.

				WOMAN IN BOOTH
			(into receiver)
		You have lied to me for the last
		time, you lowlife prick bastard!  I
		don't ever want to hear the sound
		of your fucking voice again.
			(listens)
		Yes, well fuck you, too!

	She slams down the receiver and exits.  The booth remains
	vacant for a brief interval.

				NARRATOR
		At least three hundred calls daily
		originate from this booth.  The
		coins are collected twice a day. 
		This booth has been burglarized
		forty-one times in the last six
		months.

	Someone is approaching the booth, fishing in his pocket for
	coins.  This is STUART SHEPARD, snappily dressed, his hair
	styled and his nails manicured.  Here is a man who clearly
	takes excellent care of himself.  He sports a Donna Karen
	suit and silk Armani tie.

	He's about to step into the booth when he's accosted by a
	middle-aged man in a soiled apron who's run out of a nearby
	restaurant and has finally caught up with him.

				MARIO
		Stu, we got to talk.

				STU
		Wish I could accommodate you,
		Mario, but this is my busy time of
		day.

				MARIO
		How come you cross the street every
		time you go past the restaurant?

				STU
		Why don't I stop in later for some
		lunch?

				MARIO
		There's no more drinks or free
		meals until the restaurant starts
		showing up in the columns like you
		said.

				STU
		I'm doing my level best for you
		people.

				MARIO
		One lousy mention in the Post and
		you expect to eat for six months!

				STU
		I got the food critic from the
		Village Voice all lined up to give
		you a review.

				MARIO
		That's what you tell me last July. 
		And he never shows.

				STU
		I was allowing you time to expand
		the menu.  Wallpaper the bathrooms,
		for God sakes.  You get only one
		shot with these fucking critics and
		I don't want you to blow a rare
		opportunity.

				MARIO
		You the one blowing it.  How long
		you think you can fuck everybody?

				STU
		Hold on right there.  I've got a
		very excellent reputation around
		this town.

				MARIO
		So how come you take two nice suits
		of clothes from Harry and never get
		his daughter on David Letterman?

				STU
		Hell, I'm not an agent.  I'm a
		publicist.

				MARIO
		Mister, you're nothing!

				STU
		Believe me, Valerie's on the
		waiting list to audition.  Harry's
		got no complaints.  He just let me
		pick out this tie the other day.

				MARIO
		That Harry's a damn fool!

				STU
		Mario, please let me make this up
		to you.  How about I arrange for
		the opening night party for this
		new off-Broadway show I'm handling 
		-- to be held at your place with
		local TV coverage on nine and
		eleven?  I mean I had it promised
		to another client -- who actually
		pays me money.  But it isn't firmed
		up yet.  And I could throw it your
		way.  Maybe.

				MARIO
		What is involved?

				STU
		You'd toss in the buffet for say
		seventy or eighty.  The producers
		would supply their own vino, of
		course.  I'd deliver you a
		truckload of celebrities.  And if
		they like the food, they'll all
		come back, naturally.

				MARIO
		What celebrities?

				STU
		You want Liza Minelli?  An Oscar
		winner.  Or Douglas Fairbanks, Jr.?

				MARIO
		Is he still alive?

				STU
		I saw him last night going into the
		Four Seasons.  I'll bring you over
		a whole VIP list when we come by
		for dinner.

				MARIO
		How come everybody wants to eat but
		nobody wants to pay?

				STU
		You can't think small like that. 
		Hey, you still feature musicians
		Fridays and Saturdays?

				MARIO
		At least they work for their meals.

				STU
		What about Harry's daughter as an
		extra added attraction?  She'll
		belt out five or six showtunes --
		two sets a night -- and it won't
		cost you a fucking nickel.

				MARIO
		How come?

				STU
		Star Showcase!  Let me handle
		setting that up.  And when she
		eventually goes on Letterman,
		she'll announce I'm currently
		appearing over at Mario's fine
		supper club.  Right over CBS she'll
		say that, Mario.

				MARIO
		You're full of shit.  You know
		that?  All bullshit!

				STU
		That's just a vulgar word for PR.
			(placing an arm around
			him)
		Mario, you can't hurt my feelings. 
		Even when I was a kid and they
		hurled certain invectives my way,
		it never bothered me.  Other kids
		would fall apart if anybody called
		them a fucking name.  Me, I just
		loved the attention!  'Shit-for-
		brains' -- that's what the bigger
		kids named me.  And I answered to
		it.  Hey, 'shit-for brains'
		reporting for duty.  Everybody
		loved me for that.  I could take
		abuse.  After a while, I kind of
		wore them down.  There was nothing
		more they could say to me.  So they
		stopped.  I kind of missed it.

				MARIO
		I'm sorry I even talked to you.

				STU
		I'll bet your loving wife put you
		up to this.  She saw me pass by and
		she sent you out in the street. 
		But I don't hold it against you
		personally -- you still serve up
		superior veal chop.
			(entering phone booth)
		Now I got urgent business to
		conduct, Mario.

	He slides the booth closed in Mario's face.

	The frustrated restaurateur glares at him through the glass
	before giving up and walking off -- talking to himself as he
	goes up the block.

	INSIDE THE BOOTH, Stu inserts his thirty-five cents and
	dials.

				STU
		Hello, Mavis, sweet creature.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Where have you been?  Do you think
		I have nothing to do but wait
		around for you to call?

				STU
		I'm only a few minutes late,
		loveliest individual on earth.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Stu, I'm so lonely.  When can I see
		you?

				STU
		Good news in that arena.  Kelly
		goes into rehearsal as of Monday. 
		You know how dedicated she is.  By
		the time she gets back from dancing
		her ass off, she goes right to
		sleep.  We'll have both our days
		and certain nights.  Not to mention
		when they take the show on the
		road.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		How long is that for?

				STU
		Four to five weeks -- minimum.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Maybe I should quit my job so we
		can be together full time.

				STU
		I wouldn't do that.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Sometimes I think if I have to give
		one more fucking manicure...

				STU
		That's how you met me.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		I never saw a worse set of nails. 
		Bit right down to the quick.

				STU
		I'm much better groomed since
		you've been looking after me.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		I'm glad you admit it.

				STU
		Even Kelly remarked on it when I
		first met her.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		She could care less how you look. 
		She's only interested in pushing
		her own career.  Some wife you're
		stuck with!

				STU
		The marriage is not without its
		compensations.  Do you imagine I
		could afford that apartment on what
		I'm earning?  Not with everybody
		cutting back on the publicity.  Not
		to mention a million college
		graduates coming into the
		profession trying to cut me out. 
		And one thing you can't expect from
		your clients is loyalty.  They get
		a couple of bad notices, they dump
		you.  Goodbye.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Don't go.

				STU
		I wasn't saying goodbye to you.  I
		was saying how the clients try to
		give you the wave off without even
		a month's notice.

	A conservative businessman now stands outside the booth
	waiting to use it.  He deliberately glances at his watch a
	few times to demonstrate his impatience.  This bothers Stu
	who slides the booth open a crack.

				STU
			(yelling)
		What?  Is your watch busted?  It's
		twenty after eleven and I'm gonna
		be occupied indefinitely with my
		transaction.  So get out of my
		face!

	He closes the booth up again and turns his back to the
	gentleman who gives up and departs.

				STU
		Sorry, honey.  There will be no
		further interruption.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Why must you always be calling me
		from some booth?

				STU
		On account of that phone records
		are regularly subpoenaed in divorce
		proceedings.  And I don't want some
		entry showing up on my cellular
		bill either.  She gets the mail. 
		She looks these items over. 
		Sometimes she even dials up a
		strange number to see who it is.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Then she suspects something.

				STU
		It's only because her last husband,
		the choreographer, ran around on
		her.  She can't get that out of her
		head.  That's how she caught onto
		him.  The phone bills.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		She hasn't developed much skill at
		holding a man.

				STU
		You know what a self-fulfilling
		prophecy is?  She was so sure I was
		going to find me a woman that she
		finally drove me back to you.  I
		thought I'd feel all guilty about
		it -- but I guess it hasn't kicked
		in yet.
			(beat)
		Still, I wouldn't do anything to
		hurt her.  Basically, Kelly's a
		decent individual.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		What about hurting me?  Like last
		time?

				STU
		Hurt?  You were glad to be rid of
		me.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		For a while I was, 'til I took
		stock of what was around.  You're
		the lesser of many evils.

				STU
		That's about the nicest thing you
		ever said.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		I'll have it engraved.

				STU
		We've been up front with each other
		from the beginning.  Let's keep it
		that way.  How about a drink?  Say
		seven o'clock?  The Monkey Bar?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Meet me in front.  I don't like
		walking in there unescorted.

				STU
		Yeah, you're great enough looking
		to be mistaken for one of those
		thousand dollar a night girls.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		It happens all the time lately.

				STU
		And wear that short black number I
		bought you from Bendel's.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Again?  I don't know if it's me or
		that dress you like.

				STU
		Have a good day.  Make plenty of
		tips.  And leave the whole evening
		open.  She thinks I've got Knicks
		tickets.

	He hangs up.  Then whips a tiny cellular phone out of his
	jacket pocket, flips it open and dials.  Someone answers on
	the first ring.

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		Speak!

				STU
			(into cellular)
		It's your boy Stuart.  When was the
		last time I called you for a favor?

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		The column is already full.

				STU
		I just need one line.  Anybody you
		wanna say was seen dining out at
		Mario's Stromboli restaurant.

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		Maybe you don't hear so good?  I
		got no space for you.

				STU
		Who's asking any favors?  I'm
		offering reciprocal information.

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		Since when were you ever a reliable
		source?

				STU
		Check it out.  Tony award-winning
		producer Willie Beagle tossed his
		wife back into rehab again
		following her third attempt at
		diving off the terrace at their
		plush eighteen room residence at
		the San Remo.  I got it from the
		doorman.

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		I got it from their maid yesterday. 
		It's in the paper today.  Or don't
		you bother to read my shit?

				STU
		Louis, my intentions were entirely
		honorable.

				COLUMNIST (V.O.)
		I'll drop your item in sometime
		next week.  If you promise not to
		call me for a month.

	He hangs up.  Stu looks pleased as he folds the cell phone
	and tucks it away.

	Then he starts to vacate the booth.  The phone rings.  And
	rings.  Curious, he picks up the receiver.  There's a voice
	on the other end of the line.  A DISTINCTIVE MALE VOICE.

				VOICE
		Don't even think about leaving that
		booth.

				STU
		What?

				VOICE
		Stay exactly where you are and
		listen carefully.

				STU
		I've got a heavy day, mister.

				VOICE
		You know better than to disobey me.

				STU
		I don't know you at all.

				VOICE
		Are you absolutely sure?

				STU
		Who is this?

				VOICE
		Someone who's watching you.

				STU
		Get lost!

				VOICE
		Love the gray suit.  That red and
		black tie makes a nice combination.

	Stu is taken back by the accurate description of his apparel. 
	He looks around nervously.

				STU
		Where?  Where are you?

				VOICE
		Closer than you think.

				STU
		I don't see you.

				VOICE
		There are any number of windows. 
		Check them out.

	Indeed that street corner is surrounded by high rise
	buildings and hotels.

				STU
		Okay, you had your little joke.

				VOICE
		I'm not sufficiently amused.  Not
		yet.  We have more to talk about.

	Stu knows he should simply hang up but something tells him
	not to.  Perhaps it's the strange tone of the man's voice.

				STU
		Do me a favor.  Call up somebody
		else.

				VOICE
		But it's you I'm interested in. 
		You know how many people use that
		booth every day?

				STU
		Why don't you tell me?

				VOICE
		Better than two-hundred people on
		average.

				STU
		Is that what you do?  Count them?

				VOICE
		What else do I have to do?  It's
		interesting watching people. 
		Trying to guess who they are.  And
		what they're up to.

				STU
		What are you -- a shut-in of some
		kind?

				VOICE
		You might say that.  I can't go
		out.  I might be seen.

				STU
		Somebody's looking for you?

				VOICE
		Desperately.

				STU
		The cops?

				VOICE
		Not yet.

				STU
		The ex-wife.  What'd you do -- run
		out on child support?

				VOICE
		What kind of man do you think I am?

				STU
		Frankly, I could care less.  You
		had your fun.  Now goodbye.

				VOICE
		It's not in your best interests to
		hang up on me.  That would make me
		angry.

				STU
		Isn't that just too bad?

				VOICE
		For you.

				STU
		There's ten million names in the
		phonebook.  Pester somebody else.

				VOICE
		I never talk to people I can't see. 
		I need to study their reactions.

				STU
		Alright, bullshit artist, what am
		I doing right now?

				VOICE
		Scratching your forehead with your
		left hand.  Now you're brushing
		your hair back.

				STU
		Okay, okay, you got me in your
		scrutiny.  So what?

				VOICE
		So let's talk.

				STU
		Only I got nothing to say.

				VOICE
		Oh, you will.  You'll do a lot of
		talking before this conversation is
		over.  And it'll only end when I
		want it to.

				STU
		Is that a fact?  Well if you watch
		closely, you will see me hang up.

				VOICE
		I don't think you will.

				STU
		Why not?

				VOICE
		I interest you.

				STU
		Why should I be interested in some
		creep who gets his jollies spying
		on strangers in phone booths?

				VOICE
		But you're not a stranger, Stu.

	The sound of his own name sends a chill through him.

				STU
		Who put you up to this?

				VOICE
		You were my very own selection.

				STU
		Why me in particular?

				VOICE
		Because you're so afraid.

				STU
		Ha!  What've I got to be afraid of?

				STU
		Just about everything.  You have so
		much to hide.

				STU
		How do you figure that?

				VOICE
		Why else would a man with a
		perfectly good cellular bother to
		make calls from a pay booth?

				STU
		That's my business.

				VOICE
		I've made it mine.

				STU
		All of a sudden I'm required to
		give explanations to you?

				VOICE
		In explicit detail.

				STU
		What is this?  Some kind of candid
		camera gag?  Or like that thing on
		HBO where the cab driver is taping
		what goes on in the back seat?

				VOICE
		This is not showbusiness, my
		friend.  This is reality.

				STU
		Your reality.  Not mine, you
		lowlife fuck.

				VOICE
		Stu, you'll be made to suffer for
		your attitude, so let's dispense
		with the vulgarities.

				STU
		Now you're threatening me!  Fuck
		you.  Could that be any clearer?

				VOICE
		You're only making it easier for me
		to do you harm.

				STU
		Oh yeah.  Right.  Can you see how
		I'm trembling?

				VOICE
		You will be.

				STU
		Shit, this is a new one.  Fucking
		threatening calls in a goddam phone
		booth.  When are you going to start
		with the heavy breathing.

				VOICE
		I'm not the degenerate.  You are,
		Stu.

				STU
		You don't know anything about me.

				VOICE
		Infinitely more than you know about
		me.

				STU
		Like what?

				VOICE
		Like the number you dialed when you
		first entered the booth.

				STU
		How would you know that?

				VOICE
		I'm watching through a scope and I
		could clearly read the buttons you
		pushed.  I have another extension
		here by the window.  Shall I dial
		that same number back for you? 
		Would that convince you?

	Stu nervously cranes his neck, looking around at all the tall
	buildings that surround the street corner.

	STU'S POV

	PANNING up at thousands of windows.  The Voice could be
	coming from anywhere.

	BACK TO STU IN THE BOOTH

				VOICE
		Let's see who's on the other end of
		the line.

				STU
		Don't.

				VOICE
		Too late.
			(beat)
		It's already ringing.  I'll hold
		the receiver up so you can listen
		in.

	Stu can hear the beeping as the other line rings.

	Then Mavis' voice can be heard answering.  Stu listens
	helplessly.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Hello?

				VOICE
		Well, hello.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Who is this?

				VOICE
		Someone who's really tight with
		your boyfriend -- who just called
		you from his favorite phone booth.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		You know Stu?

				VOICE
		Stu?  Oh, I know him better than
		anyone.  What he does -- how he
		thinks.  How he lies.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Who the hell is this?

				VOICE
		Stu is listening in.  He knows what
		we're both saying.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Stu?  Is that true?  Are you there?

				VOICE
		He doesn't feel like talking.

				STU
			(shouts)
		Mavis!  Just hang up the goddam
		phone.

				VOICE
		She can't hear you, Stu.  Only me.
			(a pause)
		Mavis, I'm afraid Stu hasn't been
		totally honest with you.  But then
		he can't be honest with anyone, can
		he?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		What's your name?  To whom am I
		speaking?

				VOICE
		You've never heard of me, Mavis. 
		He doesn't want you to know I
		exist.  He wishes I didn't exist. 
		But there isn't anything he can do
		about that.
			(beat)
		Still there, Stu?  All you can do
		is listen.

				STU
		Mavis -- the guy is a fucking
		nutcase!  Hang the fuck up.

				VOICE
		She doesn't want to.  She wants to
		know all about us.  Don't you,
		Mavis?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Did his wife put you up to this? 
		That bitch, Kelly?

				VOICE
		Oh yes, the bitch wife, Kelly.  My
		very next call.

				STU
			(yells)
		He doesn't know my wife!  Don't
		tell him anything else.

	Outside the booth, a huge, heavy-set black woman in a too
	tight dress, now appears with the clear desire to use the
	phone.  Her name is FELICIA.  She taps on the glass.

				FELICIA
		Could you hurry it along?

	Stu ignores her and Felicia glares at him through the glass
	with hostility.

	Stu has no inclination to deal with anybody else.  He's too
	distracted by the madness happening over the telephone.

				STU
		Can you hear me, Mavis?  Keep your
		big mouth shut.

				VOICE
		Is that any way to talk to a woman
		you love?
			(beat)
		Mavis, is he always that abusive to
		you?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		You're getting me all upset.  I
		don't know who you are or how you
		know all this --

				VOICE
		I find out things -- from watching
		people and listening to them.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Just what is your relationship to
		Stu?  That's all I want to know.

				VOICE
		Well, what do you think?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		Answer me, goddam it!

				VOICE
		Well alright.  Stu and I are --
		longtime companions.  A pair.  Two
		of a kind.  Closer than close. 
		Peas in a pod.  Spoons in a drawer.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		You pervert!

				VOICE
		That, too.

				STU
		Don't believe a word of it.  It's
		all lies.

				VOICE
		Too late, Stu.  She already
		believes it.

				MAVIS' VOICE
		You can tell that scumbag never to
		bother me again.

				VOICE
		He won't care.  He'll still have
		me.

				STU
		It's not true.  I do care.

	From outside the booth, there's a louder rapping on the
	glass.  Felicia really wants in.

				FELICIA
		Get done in there, mister.  I got
		me an important call.

				STU
		Go away.

				FELICIA
		Shit I will!  Finish up!

	She continues to rap on the glass as Stu tries to focus on
	the two-way phone call.

				VOICE
		Why don't you tell me what you
		think of us?

				MAVIS' VOICE
		You're both disgusting.

				VOICE
		That's what he said about you. 
		Well, if Stu didn't have the balls
		to come out and tell you the truth,
		I felt it was my responsibility to
		clear the air.  Goodbye now, Mavis. 
		Thanks for your time.
			(the phone clicks off; we
			hear only a dial tone)
		Back to you again, Stu.

				STU
		You total asshole!  How could you
		do that?

				VOICE
		Speaking of females, that woman
		hovering outside the booth -- may
		as well tell her that you'll be on
		the line forever.

				STU
		Like hell I will.

				VOICE
		I'm ready for you to take out your
		cellular and phone home.  And this
		time, I'll listen in.

				STU
		There's no chance of that.

				VOICE
		Or should I call Kelly and make up
		something totally outrageous?  You
		must realize by now I have a vivid
		imagination.

				STU
		You don't know our phone number!

				VOICE
		Are you absolutely sure?  I may
		have been watching you on a regular
		basis.  Keeping track of all the
		numbers I see you dial.

				STU
		And I'm supposed to believe that?

				VOICE
		I've put a great deal of
		preparation into this -- prior to
		actually saying hello.  Now do you
		want to dial 832-7165 -- or should
		I?

	The sound of the actual number being spoken shocks him even
	more than the earlier mention of his name.

				STU
		What are you going to tell her?

				VOICE
		You'll do the talking.

				STU
		What am I supposed to say?

				VOICE
		Try telling her the truth.

				STU
		Look, I don't want to hurt Kelly. 
		She's always there for me.  It's
		just my nature to have a little
		'strange' on the side.  It doesn't
		mean shit.

				VOICE
		But you still find it necessary?

				STU
		Kind of like having a beautiful
		home.  With everything you ever
		dreamed of.  But you still need
		that vacation now and then.  Some
		nice hotel room with a great view. 
		Maybe a pool.  Only you wouldn't
		want to spend more than a few days
		in any hotel.  Eventually, you want
		to go back to your home and all
		your stuff.  You're real glad to
		check out.

				VOICE
		Kelly is home and Mavis is a hotel? 
		I'm sure they'll both appreciate
		that explanation.

				STU
		You're ruining my fucking life, you
		sonofabitch.

				VOICE
		Didn't I warn you about calling me
		names?  It makes me vindictive.

				STU
		What else can you do to me?

				VOICE
		We haven't even begun.

				STU
		She's not home.  She went out.

				VOICE
		I'll bet she's back.  Now hold the
		cellular up where I can see it --
		so I can be certain you don't
		misdial on me.
			(pause)
		A little higher and to your left. 
		Now I have it in perfect view. 
		Dial slowly.

	More violent rapping on the glass from the persistent black
	lady outside.

				FELICIA
		If you got you a cell phone, how
		come you taking up the whole
		fucking booth!  This here's an
		emergency!

				STU
		There's another booth on the next
		block.

				FELICIA
		It's busted.  Every damn phone on
		Eighth Avenue is busted but this
		one.

				STU
		Well, I'm not through!  Go in a
		restaurant or someplace, but get
		away from me!

				FELICIA
		I'm gonna pull you out of that
		booth and snatch you ballheaded!

	She tries to pull open the sliding door to the booth but Stu
	jams it shut, right on her hand.

				FELICIA
		You assaulted my person.

				STU
		Let me hear from your lawyer!

				FELICIA
		You're hear alright.  I'm coming
		back.  And your ass better not be
		around.

	She stalks off obviously in search of assistance.

				VOICE
		Good work, Stu.  Now let me see you
		dial.  Tuck the receiver under your
		chin and dial your remote.

				STU
		I'm doing it.

	He punches in the digits.  The phone rings -- and rings.

				STU
		I told you she was out.

				VOICE
		Let it ring.

	Then a girl's voice is heard.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Shepard residence.

				VOICE
		Hold it close to the receiver so I
		can hear.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Hello?

				STU
		Honey, it's me.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		What's taking you so long?  I
		thought we were having some lunch
		at Mario's?

				STU
		Change of plan.  We're not eating
		in that dump any more.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		How come?

				STU
		The Health Department gave them a
		'C' rating -- that's how come. 
		Here I'm trying to put the place on
		the map and he fucks it all up with
		a major roach problem.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		That's disgusting.  Okay, I'll fix
		us a sandwich.  Where are you now?

				STU
		Just in a phone booth.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		How come?  The caller ID says
		you're on your cellular.

				STU
		Oh yeah, I am.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		But you're also in some phone
		booth?

				VOICE
		Explain that one, Stu.

				STU
		I only stepped in because the
		traffic was so loud outside.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Well just hurry on back.

				VOICE
		Tell her you can't.

				STU
		Not for a few minutes.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Are you sure you're alone?  I hear
		somebody in the background.

				STU
		The guy in the next booth.  He's
		got a bad connection and he's
		hollering his fool head off.

				VOICE
		You've got an answer for
		everything.

				STU
		I love you, baby.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Do you?

				STU
		You know that.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Stu -- who was that man?

				STU
		What man?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Some person who phoned fifteen
		minutes ago -- just after you went
		out.

				STU
		I don't understand...

				KELLY'S VOICE
		This total stranger rang up and
		told me to wait by the phone --
		because you'd be calling me in a
		few minutes -- from a booth.  And I
		said what would he be doing in any
		phone booth?

				STU
		And what did this guy say?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		He said you'd be making phone
		calls.  What else?

				STU
		Making calls is part of my
		business.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		To whom?

				STU
		Clients.  People.  Planting items
		like I do.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Women?

				STU
		Once in a while one of them could
		be a woman.  I just called
		"Elaine's" and talked to her to see
		who was in there last night.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		You know exactly what I mean.

				STU
		You're not going to start that shit
		again?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		I just feel something is wrong.

				STU
		What could be wrong?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		The way you sound.  You don't sound
		like yourself.

				STU
		Yeah?  Who do I sound like?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		Someone who's scared.  There's fear
		in your voice like I've never heard
		before.

				VOICE
		See, Stu?  Kelly agrees with me.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		I want you to come back home.  Now!

				STU
		I told you.  In a while.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		No.  I want you here now.  In case
		he calls back, I don't want to
		answer again.

				STU
		Why should he call back?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		I feel like he's going to.

				STU
		You're the one that sounds
		frightened.  And of nobody.

				KELLY'S VOICE
		He's not a nobody.  He knows about
		us.

				STU
		You're not telling me all he said. 
		What are you holding back?

				KELLY'S VOICE
		I can't discuss it on the phone. 
		Just get over here!

	CLICK!  She hangs up.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		Why did you do that to her?  She
		never did you any harm.

				VOICE
		How would you know?  Everybody does
		harm to somebody.  And then they
		try their best to forget it.

				STU
		Maybe me -- but not her.  Whatever
		I've done, there's no reason to
		take it out on her.

				VOICE
		Suppose that's the only way I can
		get to you?  You claim you love
		her.

				STU
		Yeah, I do.

				VOICE
		You don't even love yourself.

				STU
		But Kelly... I would never hurt.

				VOICE
		Still you have to uphold your
		status as an honorary asshole.

				STU
		Listen, I've treated all my women
		decent.  I never laid a hand on any
		of them, even when provoked.  And I
		always let them down easy.
			(beat)
		I'm not ready to let Kelly go. 
		Maybe I never will be.

				VOICE
		What if she dumps you first? 
		What's the odds she's already taken
		up with somebody?  One day soon
		you'll come home and find her gone
		along with the CD player and the
		VCR.

				STU
		I'm not gonna let you mind-fuck me
		all day!  That's it.  This call is
		ended.

				VOICE
		Not until I say it is.

				STU
		What happens if I hang up?

				VOICE
		You don't really want to find out.

				STU
		I'm dying to hear this!!!  What the
		fuck can you do about it -- up in
		your fucking high window with your
		goddam binoculars?

				VOICE
		I never indicated I had binoculars. 
		I said I had a highly magnified
		telescopic image of you that
		brought you up so close I could see
		where you nicked yourself under the
		chin shaving this morning.

				STU
		Oh -- while you're at it, have a
		look up my ass.

				VOICE
		I may very well do that, Stu.  In
		the meantime, think about what kind
		of device has a telescopic sight
		mounted on it.

				STU
		What?  You mean... like a rifle?

				VOICE
		A high-powered .30 calibre bolt
		action Remington 700 with a carbon
		one modification and a state of the
		art Henzholdt tactical sniperscope. 
		And you're in the cross hairs, Stu.

				STU
		I'm supposed to believe that?

				VOICE
		There's only one way I can prove it
		to you.  Hang up the receiver and
		find out.  At this range, the exit
		wound ought to be about the size of
		a small tangerine.

				STU
		And you're just going to kill me
		for no reason?

				VOICE
		For plenty of reasons!  Because you
		hung up.  For years I hated people
		hanging up on me.  Ex-girlfriends. 
		Women I didn't even know. 
		Prospective employers.

				STU
		I get hung up on all the time.  You
		get used to it.

				VOICE
		Or else you don't.  I worked for
		months getting people to switch to
		MCI -- being insulted at and being
		hung up on hundreds of times a day. 
		The ones that cursed me out for
		invading their privacy never
		bothered me as much as those that
		clicked off without even bothering
		to reply.

				STU
		Then why didn't you go after one of
		them?

				VOICE
		Maybe you are one of them.

				STU
		Hey, I have worked in a boiler room
		myself peddling "Term Life."  I
		Would never be rude to a fellow
		salesperson.

				VOICE
		Can you feel it on you now?  The
		heat of it.  I'm moving the strike
		zone down to your stomach area. 
		Now I'm raising it up again. 
		Directly above the chest cavity --
		sliding up to the forehead just
		above the left ear.

				STU
		Shit -- I do feel it.

				VOICE
		Tell me where I'm going with it
		now.

				STU
		Across my forehead -- now back
		where it was before.

				VOICE
		I'm amazed how you can do that. 
		You're amazingly accurate.
			(beat)
		Now I know what you're thinking. 
		If I drop down on the floor of the
		booth and flatten myself out...

				STU
		No, I'm not thinking that.

				VOICE
		Oh yes you are.  Can I crawl out
		using the booth as a shield?  Can I
		crawl to that Chrysler illegally
		parked only three or four feet
		away?  The shattering glass may cut
		me, but it'll only be superficial. 
		Otherwise, this lunatic will never
		let me out alive.

				STU
		No.  You will.  I know you will. 
		If I just cooperate.

				VOICE
		Where is it now?  Think and feel
		for the warm spot.

				STU
		Below the shoulder?

				VOICE
		Which one?

				STU
		The right shoulder.

				VOICE
		Remarkable how we're in tune. 
		You're doing far better than the
		others.

				STU
		What others?  What do you mean?
			(no reply)
		You said 'others!'

				VOICE
			(finally)
		I'm sure you read about the Italian
		tourist shot dead ten days ago at
		the corner of Forty-fifth and
		Eighth?

				STU
		I saw it on the news.

				VOICE
		And where are we now?

				STU
		Oh, God.  Forty-fifth and Eighth.

				VOICE
		What else do you remember about
		that killing?

				STU
		I don't know.

				VOICE
		Try.

				STU
		He was gunned down.  And nobody was
		caught.  And they didn't even
		bother to take his wallet or his
		watch... or anything.

				VOICE
		Now you know why.  It wasn't a
		robbery.

				STU
		What did he do?

				VOICE
		He hung up -- so I disconnected him
		permanently.

				STU
		Please -- don't do it to me.  You
		got no reason to do it to me.

				VOICE
		Don't give me reason.

				STU
		I'm not looking to.  Tell me what
		you want!

				VOICE
		Tell me about your job.

				STU
		What's to tell?  I'm in Public
		Relations.  They used to call us
		"flacks."  Now we're media
		consultants.

				VOICE
		What do you do, exactly?

				STU
		Plant items in the paper and on the
		tube.  More important sometimes,
		keep stuff out.

				VOICE
		What've you kept out?

				STU
		One of my people got nailed for
		indecent exposure.  I managed for
		the cops to use his real name
		instead of his stage name so nobody
		picked up on it.

				VOICE
		You saved the little deviate's ass,
		didn't you?

				STU
		He's in major therapy now.  I swear
		he is.

				VOICE
		You must hang with some major
		celebrities.  Journalists,
		newscasters -- those types.

				STU
		I'm real close with Larry King. 
		And the "Hard Copy" people.

				VOICE
		Could you get him down here?  Larry
		King?

				STU
		Why would he want to come here?

				VOICE
		Because you asked him to.

				STU
		He comes from Atlanta.

				VOICE
		Well, who could you get?

				STU
		I don't know.

				VOICE
		Wolf Blitzer?

				VOICE
		Probably not.

				VOICE
		Regis?

				STU
		Definitely no chance.

				VOICE
		You'd be offering them an exclusive
		newsbreak.  I'm talking about more
		than one homicide.

				STU
		How many?

				VOICE
		I don't answer questions.  I ask
		them.

				STU
		I gotta have the facts.  They might
		not believe me.  My record isn't
		too good when it comes to hard
		news.

				VOICE
		You're not considered a reliable
		source?

				STU
		On a divorce or separation, maybe. 
		Or who's gay, or who isn't gay any
		more.  I kind of specialize in that
		kind of material.  I mean I could
		probably get you Joe Franklin.

				VOICE
		How about Cindy Adams?

				STU
		I might have a shot.  Are you
		familiar with Liz Smith?

				VOICE
		Do you know her number?

				STU
		Want I should call her?  How much
		can I say?

				VOICE
		Tell her you're in direct touch
		with a killer who's willing to
		speak honestly if she shows up here
		alone and without notifying the
		authorities.

				STU
		She usually likes to have a
		celebrity involved.  If you had an
		actor or a sports figure held
		prisoner instead of me, there'd be
		better odds she's come.

				VOICE
		Then lie.  Pick a celebrity and put
		them in the booth.

				STU
		Let's see.  Who does she like?  Who
		couldn't be reached to deny it?

				VOICE
		I'm anxious to see you in action. 
		Don't keep me waiting.

	Stu uses his cellular again.

				STU
			(dialing)
		Sometimes you only get her service.
			(into cellular)
		Hi -- Stu Shepard.  Put me through. 
		I've got hard news for her.  I can
		only talk to her directly.  But say
		it regards -- Liza.

				VOICE
		Liza?  That was imaginative.

				STU
			(into cellular)
		No, I can't call back.  I'll have
		to lay in on somebody else. 
		Alright, but I can't hang on long.
			(to pay phone)
		She's coming on.
			(to cellular)
		Liz, hello.  Sure I'll make it
		brief.  Killing two weeks ago in
		the theatre district?  Turn out a
		sniper did the job.  Yeah, a sniper
		with a rifle.  Now he's got another
		victim lined up.  Not just your
		anonymous New Yorker, but Liza. 
		Now you can't call anybody or Ms. 
		Minelli's dead meat and so am I. 
		She's hostage in a phone booth
		right in the sniper's sights.  But
		he says he'll talk to you and let
		her walk.  I know it'll take balls
		to do this, but you're a fine and
		courageous newspaper woman...

	There's a click.  Silence.

				STU
		Hello?  Hello?
			(to pay phone)
		Either she's on her way over or she
		doesn't believe me.

				VOICE
		You weren't particularly
		convincing.

				STU
		I didn't really believe in what I
		was saying.

				VOICE
		Because you don't really believe my
		Remington is pointed at you?

				STU
		I do.

				VOICE
		You're ninety percent sure.

				STU
		At least ninety-five percent, easy.

				VOICE
		Let me erase all doubt.

				STU
		No.  Don't shoot.

				VOICE
		Control yourself, Stu.  Glance down
		at your chest.  What do you see.

				STU
		Oh, my God.  A dot.  A fucking red
		dot.

	A tiny red dot now moves across Stu's chest.

				VOICE
		Like you've seen in the movies?

				STU
		The laser dot.  Just before some
		poor bastard always gets blown
		away.

				VOICE
		Usually a supporting player.  That
		lovely but by now generic special
		effect of the bullet piercing the
		forehead.

	The tiny red laser dot dances around Stu's chest and stomach 
	-- the jumps up and remains between his eyes.

				VOICE
		This takes all the guesswork out of
		it.  You know exactly where to
		expect it before I even tighten my
		finger on the trigger.

				STU
		Don't tighten.  Don't even tickle
		that fucking finger.

				VOICE
		How about Geraldo?  He's run his
		ass off to get in on this.

				STU
		You're talking about the old
		Geraldo.  Look, I can try and reach
		cable NBC.  They're hungry.

				VOICE
		I'm disappointed.  I wanted to go
		first class.

				STU
		They do a great job.  They'll haul
		a whole crew over to cover your
		surrender "live."

				VOICE
		I never expressed interest in
		giving myself up.  There are so
		many other phone booths in the
		city.  I'm just getting warmed up.

				STU
		That's entirely up to you.  Your
		choice.  I'm just trying to set you
		up with the proper communicator.
			(beat)
		I suppose Liza wasn't strong
		enough.  I should've said Madonna.

				VOICE
		Now you're being creative.

	Outside the booth, the angry black woman has returned,
	bringing with her a gaudily dressed pimp named LEON who looks
	like he means business.  He slams his fist against the glass,
	nearly shattering it.

				LEON
		Drag your baggy butt out of that
		booth.  We got business to conduct
		out of there.

				FELICIA
		He been in there all day.

				STU
		I'm not through.

				LEON
		Hang up that receiver or I'll make
		you eat the fucking thing!

				STU
		Fuck off or I'll call a cop.

				LEON
		Do you see one around here?  What
		you think I'm gonna be doing while
		you're waiting for a prowl car to
		get assigned?  I'm about to cut you
		a second asshole if you don't
		vacate those premises.

				STU
		I can't.

				FELICIA
		He's got him a fucking cellular. 
		What's he need to be on our booth
		for?

				STU
		I can't explain it.

				LEON
		I'm not interested in your
		explanations even if you had any.

	He withdraws a switchblade knife from his pocket but doesn't
	open it -- yet.

				LEON
		If I flick this, I use it.

				STU
		I'll make it worth your while to go
		away.  How much do you want?

				LEON
		Make me an offer.

				STU
		Thirty dollars.  It's all I've got
		in cash.  Take it and go.

				LEON
		You're offering to rent my phone
		booth?  For how long?

				STU
		I don't know.  For as long as it
		takes.

				LEON
		What's so special in there?

				STU
		Do you want the money?

				LEON
		Is that a genuine Rolex you've got
		on?

				STU
		Come on, man.  That's my good
		watch.

				LEON
		That's what it's gonna take.

				STU
		Then here.  Take the damn thing.

				LEON
		And the thirty!

				STU
		Take it all.

	The pimp pockets the watch and the money.  But doesn't go
	away.

				LEON
		Now I'm satisfied.  But you still
		got to deal with Felicia here.  I
		believe you spoke harshly to her.

				STU
		I apologize.

				LEON
		And did her some injury.

				STU
		An accident.  I'm sorry about that,
		too.

				FELICIA
		The man don't sound like he means
		it.

				LEON
		I agree.
			(to Stu)
		Why don't you hang up a minute so
		we can discuss this matter at
		length.

				STU
		It's long distance.  I can't lose
		the call -- I might not get them
		back.

				LEON
		Do I have to rip that fucking phone
		out of there?

				STU
		That wouldn't be a good idea.
			(into pay phone)
		Would it?

				VOICE
		Not at all.

				STU
		I gave you everything I've got.

				LEON
		That pinky ring looks attractive. 
		Felicia might like that.

				FELICIA
		It might fit.

				STU
		You want the ring, you've got the
		ring.  If I can get it off.

				LEON
		I can get it off you.

	Leon reaches in and grabs Stu's ring hand.

				STU
		Let go of me!  It's coming loose. 
		There.
			(he tosses it)
		Okay, Felicia, with my deepest
		apologies.  Goodbye now.

				LEON
		What's really going on in that
		booth -- that escapes the naked
		eye?

				STU
		Nothing.  Talk.  That's all.

				LEON
		That your connection on the end of
		the line?  Or are you dealing?

				STU
		This has nothing to do with drugs.

				LEON
		You gotta be high on something to
		willingly divest yourself of your
		valuables -- just to maintain
		occupancy of a fucking phone booth
		that the local bums piss in every
		night.

				STU
		I knew it smelled for some reason.

				LEON
		You look like you're ready to piss
		yourself.

				STU
		Because I am.

				LEON
		Maybe if the city provided decent
		public toilets, folks wouldn't
		relieve themselves in the subway
		stations and phone booths!

				STU
		I'll take it up with the mayor.

				LEON
		Next thing you know you're gonna
		claim we mugged you -- took your
		billfold and watch.

				STU
		No, you didn't.  It was a fair and
		equitable deal.  You had
		territorial rights to this booth
		and I paid a license fee.  Fair is
		fair.  Now leave me in peace.

				LEON
		You sure you're alright?
			(to Felicia)
		He don't look well.

				FELICIA
		Kind of pale.  Even for a white
		man.

				LEON
		Jaundice they calls it.  Probably
		advanced liver trouble.
			(to Stu)
		If it's cirrhosis, you better find
		yourself a twelve step program and
		quick.

				STU
		Thanks for your interest but I'm in
		perfect health.

				FELICIA
		So how come his hand is shaking?

				LEON
		The man is cracking up.

				FELICIA
		Lookit the sweat pouring off the
		sonofabitch.  That's one sick
		mother you started up with, Leon!

				LEON
		Me?  You're the one that brought me
		over and exposed me to all his
		germs.

				STU
		I'm terminal, okay?  Now can I
		close the booth and continue my
		conversation?

				LEON
		I'm worried now it might be
		catching.  All that money out of
		your sweaty pocket is probably
		crawling with some rare and
		incurable disease.

				STU
		Fine.  Give it back.

				LEON
		What good's that?  We done touched
		it.

				STU
		Well go wash your hands.

				LEON
		Come on now.  Own up to what you're
		carrying.  Is it some of that
		sexually transmitted shit?  Cause
		in that case, we can relax.

				STU
		I'm sick of you.  Now get out of my
		face.

				LEON
		Here we's being solicitous as to
		your health and you respond by
		heaping abuse!

				FELICIA
		Whip his arrogant ass.

	Leon reaches into the booth and grabs Stu's jacket.

				STU
		Touch me and I'll throw up on you.

	At the suggestion, Leon lets go quickly.

	It looks like a stalemate.  Stu isn't vacating the booth and
	Leon and his lady are reluctant to touch him further.  He
	does indeed look sick.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		You can see what I'm up against
		here.

				VOICE
		Want me to get rid of him for you?

				STU
		What do you have in mind?

				VOICE
		I'll think of something.

	Suddenly the red dot reappears on the forehead of the pimp.

	Leon doesn't realize it's there.  The hooker behind him has
	no way of seeing it.  But to Stu, there's no way to miss it. 
	He reacts.

				STU
		God -- no.
			(into pay phone)
		Don't.  It's not necessary.

				VOICE
		You asked for my help.

				STU
		I'll handle it myself.

				VOICE
		You're not doing too well.  I can
		settle it in a fraction of a
		second.  Shall I demonstrate?

				STU
		No.
			(to Leon)
		For your own safety, mister, just
		walk away.

				LEON
		Now the man is turning
		aggressive... issuing threats upon
		my person.

				STU
		You're making this happen.

				LEON
		If you don't hang up and step out,
		I'm about to topple this booth into
		the gutter with you inside it.

	Reluctant to touch Stu again, Leon assaults the booth itself. 
	He begins shaking it violently -- trying to rip it from its
	foundation.  And the rickety booth is not too sturdy.  It
	starts rocking back and forth.

	Stu is thrown around inside it, barely keeping his footing.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		This isn't my fault.
			(shouts)
		Stop that!

	But Leon continues rocking the booth.  It won't come loose --
	so in frustration, he punches in a side pane of glass.

	The glass shatters all around Stu, who does his best to
	shield himself from the slivers.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		The guy's insane!

				VOICE
		Only one way to stop a mad dog. 
		Give me permission.

				STU
		I can't.

				VOICE
		If he forces you out of that booth,
		I've told you what to expect.  You
		or him, Stu.

	Leon is smashing other panes of glass now -- one after
	another -- as Stu cowers inside.

				FELICIA
		Don't cut yourself, honey.

	A crowd of derelicts and street people are now gathering to
	watch the out of control pimp take out his wrath on the booth
	and its occupant.

				DERELICT
		Looks like the fucker is comin'
		loose.

				STREET PERSON
		Shove it out into the oncoming
		traffic.

				DERELICT
		What'll you bet the bus could knock
		that fifty feet?

	The booth is being decimated but Stu hangs onto the phone.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		Hello?  Hello?

				VOICE
			(with heavy static)
		You're breaking up.  We're about to
		be cut off.

				STU
		I can't help it!

				VOICE
		That counts as a hang-up.

				STU
		No.  It can't.  That's not fair.

				VOICE
		I can still make him stop.  Say the
		word.  Can you hear me?

				STU
		Yes.

	Stu sees the red dot reappear on Leon's chest as he continues
	to barrage the booth with punches and kicks.

	Then Leon recoils, staggers a step backward.  He doesn't
	realize he's been shot.

	There's been no sound of gunfire.  Perhaps a silencer was
	used -- or the downtown traffic drowned out the solitary
	discharge.

	Leon looks confused at first.  His ladyfriend has no idea
	he's wounded -- neither do the derelicts and street people
	who've assembled on the corner.

	Even Stu isn't sure -- until the blood starts oozing from the
	wound on the pimp's chest -- staining his yellow vest.

	He isn't assaulting the booth anymore.  He's trying to keep
	his balance.  He slumps forward, hanging onto the booth for
	support -- only a few inches from Stu's face.  The blood runs
	down the side of the booth.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		You did it!

				VOICE
		You said 'yes.'

				STU
		I said 'Yes, I can hear you.'  Not
		'Yes -- kill the motherfucker!'

				VOICE
		Don't try to renege on it.  I was
		following orders.

				STU
		You're twisting it all around.  I
		didn't do this!

	Meanwhile, Leon leans upright against the booth.  Then his
	legs cave in and he begins to slide to his knees.

	Felicia runs up beside him.  She sees the blood.

				FELICIA
		I warned you not to cut yourself.
			(to crowd)
		Look at all that blood.  He must've
		hit an artery.

	She screams as Leon topples backwards onto the pavement.  Now
	his chest wound is evident.

				FELICIA
		Oh, Jesus.  What is that?  Talk to
		me!  What happened?

	The crowd tightens around the fallen body.  Street people who
	are fascinated but not shocked.

				DERELICT
		Gunshot!

				STREET PERSON
		Yeah.  Sucking chest wound right
		over the heart.

				FELICIA
		Somebody call an ambulance.

				STREET PERSON
		Call the meatwagon.  He's fucked
		up.

				FELICIA
		You shut the fuck up!

	Her focus turns to Stu in the battered phone booth.

				FELICIA
		Why did you do that to him?

				STU
		I didn't.

				FELICIA
			(to crowd)
		You all saw it!  He shot my man
		without no provocation!

				DERELICT
		Yeah.  Pumped one right into him at
		close range.

				STU
		How could I?  I don't even have a
		gun.  Look!

				STREET PERSON
		Everybody get the fuck back!  They
		shoot one -- then they shoot
		everybody in sight!  Kill all the
		fucking witnesses!

	The crowd disperses to doorways and around the corner -- out
	of immediate range.

				STU
		Come back.  You've got to see --
		I'm not armed.

	Only Felicia remains, leaning over the pimp's body, staring
	helplessly.

				FELICIA
		Hang up and dial 911.  Get a
		doctor!

				STU
		I can't hang up.  That's what this
		is all about.

				FELICIA
		You're gonna stand there and let
		him die?

				STU
			(takes out cellular)
		I can use this.
			(he dials)
		Emergency.  Yes.  There's been a
		shooting at Forty-fifth and Eighth 
		-- on the corner.  A man is down. 
		What's the difference who I am?  I
		don't want to be involved.

				FELICIA
			(shouts)
		That's bullshit.  He's the shooter. 
		You're talking to the shooter.

	Stu quickly disconnects the cellular.

				STU
		That wasn't nice.

				FELICIA
		Go ahead -- make a fucking run for
		it.  I hope they gun you down --
		like you did him!

				STU
		I'm not going anyplace.  I'm
		staying right here in this booth.
			(into pay phone)
		Unless you give me permission.

				VOICE
		You're attracting a lot of
		attention.  I suppose when the
		police get there, you'll accuse me.

				STU
		What do you expect me to say?

				VOICE
		That's up to you.  But any mention
		of me will not be appreciated.

				STU
		You mean...?

				VOICE
		You won't even get to finish your
		sentence.  Oh look, that little red
		dot is dancing around all over you
		again.  You saw how quickly it can
		happen.  And how accurate I can be.

				STU
		They can't blame me -- I'm not
		armed.

				VOICE
		Who's going to believe that?  With
		all those witnesses to the
		contrary.

				STU
		They can see with their own eyes.

	Not far away, we hear the BLAST of POLICE SIRENS drawing
	closer.

				VOICE
		Remember to leave me out of it.

				STU
		How can I?

				VOICE
		You'll put the proper spin on it. 
		Isn't that your specialty?  Feeding
		the public a story that may not
		have a shred of truth -- and making
		it totally believable?

				STU
		This isn't a story.  This is real. 
		This is murder.

				VOICE
		If you'd only dealt with the man
		reasonably, shown him some respect,
		this might not have been necessary.

				STU
		I gave him my money, my watch...

				VOICE
		But not your respect.  Which is
		what he required of you.

				STU
		He was a fucking thief.

				VOICE
		And now he's a fucking dead thief. 
		Do you feel better about that?

				STU
		I don't feel a bit guilty.  This is
		all your doing!

				VOICE
		Now you're being disrespectful of
		me.  You never learn.  Your job is
		to deal with people -- but you're
		not good at it.

				STU
		Hey, I'm not taking any more
		criticism from some lunatic sniper
		who gets his kicks killing
		strangers.

				VOICE
		You keep insisting I'm a stranger. 
		Probably because you don't
		recognize the voice.  But there are
		cheap electronic devices available
		that disguise the voice.  I might
		not even be a man.  I might be one
		of those many women you've almost
		totally forgotten.  One who doesn't
		forgive easily.  One who wants to
		watch you squirm.

				STU
		You're a man.  I know you're a man. 
		Women don't kill with telescopic
		rifles.  They stab you.

				VOICE
		You sound so sure of that.  But
		you've never provoked any man as
		much as have the women in your
		life.  And so many of them, Stu.
			(a beat)
		Do you even remember their names?

				STU
		I've got no time to rehash my whole
		life.  Oh my God!  The cops are
		here.

	Police cars are pulling up on all sides of Eighth Avenue.

	Traffic has suddenly been shut down.  Prowl cars have now
	blocked the streets.

	PRODUCTION NOTE: Everything is seen from Stu's perspective
	without intercuts.

	Half a dozen cops now emerge and approach with drawn guns.

				FELICIA
			(pointing)
		That's him -- in the booth.  He's
		got a gun!

	As she hurls accusations, she's lugging Leon's lifeless body
	out into the gutter into the center of Eighth Avenue.

	It's a bright afternoon.  In the distance, we hear the
	maddening HONKING of uptown traffic that is now being
	rerouted, creating a huge bottleneck and raising the anger of
	irate motorists and bus drivers whose horns provide their
	simplest form of protest.  It's a discordant concert that
	echoes the confusion and frustration which Stu now feels...

	As the cops surround the booth -- at a distance.

				SERGEANT
			(into bullhorn)
		Throw down your weapon and come out
		with your hands raised.

				STU
			(into phone)
		They're ordering me to come out.

				VOICE
		I can see that.  Ignore them.

				STU
		What if they open fire?

				VOICE
		They probably won't.  Look across
		on the east side of the street.  Do
		you see the tourist with the home
		video camera?

	STU'S POV

	A distant crowd gathering on the opposite west side corner
	behind the police cars.  Some tourist is capturing the event
	on video.

	BACK TO STU

				STU
		What about him?

				VOICE
		He's going to keep the police on
		their best behavior.  So long as
		you don't take what could be
		interpreted as hostile action,
		you'll be safe.

				STU
		You call this safe?  Six cops with
		guns pointed my way?

				VOICE
		You want me to reduce them to three
		-- or two?

				STU
		Absolutely no more shooting.  Now
		is that clear?

				VOICE
		You can always change your mind.

				SERGEANT
			(with bullhorn)
		You know the drill.  Hands clasped
		behind the back of your neck --
		moving slowly -- step out of the
		booth.  If we see any sign of a
		weapon, we will respond.

				STU
			(shouts)
		You won't, because there isn't any.

				SERGEANT
			(bullhorn)
		I repeat.  Raise your hands.

				STU
		I can't.  I'm on a phone call.

	Now a black POLICE CAPTAIN arrives and takes full command of
	the situation.

				CAPTAIN RAMEY
		You have thirty seconds to comply.

				STU
		I told you.  I'm busy.  Come back
		later.

				VOICE
		Very good, Stu.

	The cops take cover behind parked cars, keeping Stu clearly
	in their sights.  He has no place to hide.  He's in the
	battered phone booth in plain view from all sides.

				RAMEY
		You've been given an order.

	The Sergeant slides up beside the Captain to confer.

	PRODUCTION NOTE: We remain in LONG SHOT of the cops -- always
	from Stu's POV.  But we can hear their voices and all that is
	said as if they were in close up.  It has an odd, unreal and
	distancing effect.

				SERGEANT
		We're dealing with a mental case. 
		He's looking for us to kill him.

				RAMEY
		Well he's not getting his wish.

	In the center of the street, an ambulance pulls up and a team
	of medics jump out.  They rush to Leon's body.  (Again we
	hear their voices close, even though visually they are far
	off.)

				FELICIA
		Tell me he's gonna be alright.

				MEDIC
		Step aside.  Let us look at him.

	The medics push her aside -- then examine the victim.  He's
	DOA.

				MEDIC
		Nothing we can do.  Don't touch the
		body.  They'll need it to mark the
		crime scene.

	Far across the street, the Captain confers with his
	subordinates.  They are small figures on the screen but we
	hear them sharply.

				SERGEANT
		Same corner as two weeks ago.

				RAMEY
		Maybe it's more than a coincidence. 
		Cover me.  I need to talk to him.

				SERGEANT
		You've got your vest on?

				RAMEY
		What do you think?

	The Captain steps out of cover and boldly approaches the
	phone booth.  He stops cautiously about fifteen feet away.

				RAMEY
		I'm not armed.

				STU
		Neither am I.

				RAMEY
		Yeah, sure.  I need to know what
		happened.

				STU
		Can't talk about it.

				RAMEY
		Sure you can.  My name's Ramey. 
		Captain Ed Ramey.  What's yours?

				STU
		Look, I don't want to be friends.

				RAMEY
		You look like you need a friend.

				VOICE
		Tell him you've already got a
		friend.

				STU
			(yells)
		I've got a friend, okay.

				RAMEY
		Is that who you're talking to on
		the phone?

				STU
		None of your business.

				RAMEY
		When somebody gets shot, it becomes
		my business.  Let's not have
		anybody else killed.  I want to
		hear your side of it.

				STU
		I've got no side of it.

				VOICE
		Don't worry, Stu.  I've got him
		fixed right in my sights.  I won't
		let him hurt you.

				RAMEY
		Has this happened to you before? 
		The need to hurt someone?  To put a
		bullet in them?

				STU
		You won't believe anything I say.

				RAMEY
		Try me.

				STU
		I couldn't shoot anybody.  I'm not
		armed.

				RAMEY
		You're right.  I don't believe you. 
		What's that bulge in your pants
		pocket?

				STU
		That?  That's my cellular.

				RAMEY
		A cellular?  Then what are you
		doing in a phone booth making
		calls?

				STU
		Do you want to see it?

				RAMEY
		Don't reach for it, mister.

				STU
		Then how can I show it to you?

				RAMEY
		I don't need to see it.  I know
		what's there.  All these witnesses
		saw you use it on him.

	From behind a parked car, a HOMELESS PERSON calls out.

				STREET PERSON
			(hollers)
		Damn straight!

	Another DERELICT, crouched in a doorway, joins in.

				DERELICT
			(shouts)
		Yeah!  Shot him down like a dog!

				STU
		They're all lying.  Nobody saw it
		because it didn't happen.

				RAMEY
		A man is dead but it didn't happen.

				STU
		Not on account of me!  This is like
		some bad dream.

				RAMEY
		You're walking through a bad dream
		and you can't wake up.  Do you want
		to wake up?

				STU
		I'm trying.

				RAMEY
		And in this dream, you killed that
		man.  He was bothering you so you
		iced him.

				STU
		No.

				RAMEY
		Then who did?

				VOICE
		Don't tell him, Stu.  Or it'll be
		the last thing he ever hears.  His
		blood will be on your hands.

				STU
			(to Ramey)
		I don't know.

				RAMEY
		But you saw it happen?

				STU
		Yes.

				RAMEY
		You were the closest one to him. 
		You must've seen who did it.

				STU
		No.

				RAMEY
		We're trying to be honest with each
		other, aren't we?

				STU
		Not necessarily.

				VOICE
		I'm losing patience with this cop.

				STU
			(into phone)
		I'm handling this.

				RAMEY
		Who do you keep talking to on the
		phone?

				STU
		Nobody.  My psychiatrist.

				VOICE
		Excellent, Stu.  You're getting
		good at this.

				RAMEY
		What's this doctor's name?  It's
		important we know.

				STU
		He says not to tell you.  It's
		privileged information.

				VOICE
		Damn good reply.  Now you're having
		fun.  Admit it.

				STU
		Whatever you say.

				VOICE
		Playing it so close to the edge. 
		I'll bet you've never felt so
		alive.  That's how I feel when I
		look through the sight and select
		somebody.

	The Captain begins advancing a few steps closer.

				RAMEY
		I respect your right to privacy. 
		I've been to therapy myself.  The
		department provides it.  I know
		it's not good form for a cop to be
		admitting that, but...

				VOICE
		Tell him not to come any closer.

				STU
		Stop right there.  Back up a few
		steps.  Back where you were.

				RAMEY
		If it makes you more comfortable.

				VOICE
		Tell him to read you your rights.

				STU
		I want you to read me my rights and
		stop asking questions.

				RAMEY
		Al least tell me your first name.

				STU
		It's my right not to have any name.

				RAMEY
		No gun and no name.  You're a
		highly underprivileged person.

				VOICE
		Demand a lawyer.

				STU
		And get me a lawyer, too.  I want a
		lawyer brought down here to
		negotiate my surrender.

				VOICE
		Brilliant, Stu.  Keep winging it.

				RAMEY
		It'll be hard to find a lawyer
		willing to risk his life.  But if
		you hand over the gun...

				STU
		How can I when you won't let me
		take it out?

				RAMEY
		We'll take it out for you -- as
		soon as you exit the booth with
		your hands raised and...

				STU
			(interrupts)
		Now we're back to that again.  It's
		always "Get out of the booth.' 
		'You can't stay in the booth.' 
		Well, I like it in the fucking
		booth.  It's my whole world now. 
		It's my booth and I'm never coming
		out.

				RAMEY
		We're not about to force you
		because there could be a
		miscalculation and then we'd never
		find out why this happened.

				STU
		Why is it so important to know? 
		The guy is dead.  Isn't that
		enough?  Knowing isn't going to
		make him alive again.  So who gives
		a fuck!

				RAMEY
		It's what makes the job
		interesting.  Finding out why. 
		Something drove you to do this. 
		You didn't go out today expecting
		this to happen.  It was a nice day. 
		You were out for a walk.  And then
		suddenly it all changed.

				STU
		All I wanted was to make a phone
		call.  One lousy phone call for
		thirty-five fucking cents.

				VOICE
		Careful, Stu.  Don't volunteer too
		much.

				RAMEY
		You got some bad news on that call.

				STU
		The worst.

				RAMEY
		Something that pushed you over the
		edge?

				STU
		And I've been falling ever since.

				RAMEY
		Time to land.

				STU
		When you hit bottom, you die.

				RAMEY
		I'm your safety net.

				STU
		If I tell you what you want to know
		-- you'll die, too.

	Something about the implied threat sends a chill through
	Captain Ramey.

	INSERT SHOT

	The Captain's head as seen through a telescopic sight.

	Ramey could be dead in an instant.

	PRODUCTION NOTE: The only time we deviate from Stu's
	perspective is when we see the sniper's POV through his
	scope.

	ANGLE BACK ON STU IN THE BOOTH,

	the detective fifteen feet away.

	Ramey decides to back off momentarily.

				RAMEY
		I'll go see about that lawyer.

				STU
		Now that's a good idea.

	The Captain withdraws back across the street.

				VOICE
		He's lucky.  I had him centered in
		my cross hairs.  I really had to
		restrain myself.

	We hear the approach of a helicopter.

	Stu peers up ward as not one but two choppers appear above
	the tall buildings.

				VOICE
		It's not the police.  It's the
		media.  You're news, Stuart.

	The helicopters circle above.

				VOICE
		You've never gotten this much press
		for any of your clients.  I'm
		making you a famous person.

				STU
		They're just hoping for coverage of
		me dying in the gutter.

				VOICE
		Their presence is putting the
		police on their continued best
		behavior.

				STU
		Those cops are just looking for any
		excuse.

				VOICE
		Then don't give them one.

	Then, as if on cue, Stu's cellular phone in his pocket starts
	ringing.

	But he can't allows himself to reach for it.  To do so might
	cause the police to believe he was trying to draw his gun.

	It rings quietly -- virtually inaudible outside the booth. 
	Drowned out by the traffic horns, the static from the police
	radios and the newly introduced sound of television
	helicopters circling over Eighth Avenue taking video coverage
	of the event below.

				VOICE
		Who could it be?

				STU
		Kelly.  She was worried about me.

	Stu is afraid to reach in his pocket lest the cops think he's
	going for a gun.

				VOICE
		Maybe she's seen this on
		television.  It must be on every
		channel by now.  Breaking news.

				STU
		She doesn't watch daytime TV.

				VOICE
		One of the neighbors could've
		alerted her.

	The cell phone keeps ringing, almost drowned out by the sound
	of helicopters circling overhead.

				STU
		Why are you saying this?  You want
		me to reach in my pocket so you can
		see them open fire?

				VOICE
		That's an unwarranted accusation
		and very unbecoming in light of the
		good advice I've given in the past. 
		Have I ever steered you wrong?

				STU
		God -- how I'd love to hear her
		voice.

				VOICE
		It might even be worth it.  She's
		insistent, isn't she?

	The cellular won't stop ringing.

				STU
		If she knows I'm in trouble, she
		won't give up.

				VOICE
		Probably glued to the TV by now. 
		I'm watching coverage on two
		stations now.  Channel surfing.
			(pause)
		Well, there you are on two and four
		and five.  Not any decent angles on
		you, though, stuck inside there.

	The cell phone continues beeping until the sound of it is
	maddening.  Stu is still afraid to reach for it and provide
	the cops with an excuse to open fire.

				VOICE
		But if you'd take one or two steps
		outside and look up, I think they
		could get a clear picture of you.

				STU
		You said I'm not allowed to leave
		the booth.

	Finally the cell phone stops ringing.

				VOICE
		I might be willing to bend the
		rules and let you enjoy your moment
		of fame.  Set the phone down
		without hanging up... and take a
		step or two outside.  Just for a
		minute.  Then come straight back in
		or I'll be forced to provide 'live'
		coverage that should rival the
		historic Zapruder footage.
			(beat)
		Nothing like an exploding head to
		excite viewer interest.

				STU
		No, thanks.  I'll stay where I am.

				VOICE
		It was only a suggestion.  Since
		you're convinced I'm going to plug
		you anyway, it can't matter much.

				STU
		If you shoot me, you give yourself
		away.

				VOICE
		Even without a muffler, they'd
		never hear the report with all this
		noise.  Afterwards, it'd take them
		a good ten minutes to realize you
		weren't plugged by some overzealous
		officer.  Then they'll blame the
		media for inciting a crackpot
		vigilante to come down here and do
		the SWAT team's job for them.

				STU
		You expected them to come.  You had
		this all worked out.

				VOICE
		I write the scenario and you all
		play your parts -- as directed.

	The damned cell phone starts beeping again.  Stu fights the
	temptation to grab for it and hear Kelly's voice for one last
	time.

				STU
		Poor Kelly.  What she must be going
		through.

				VOICE
		Why don't you tell her how you feel
		about her?

				STU
		I'd never get the words out.  Not
		with fifteen or twenty rounds in
		me.

				VOICE
		You can't be certain they'd fire. 
		They'd see it was only a phone.

				STU
		They wouldn't wait to see.

	The cellular ringing continues jangling Stu's nerves.

				STU
		Why doesn't she hang up?

	Then Stu notices something in the crowd gathering far across
	the street behind the police barricades.  Countless faces
	rubbernecking, probably hoping to see some display of
	violence that would end with him face down dead on the
	pavement.

	And in the midst of them -- one face familiar to him.  A
	female, quite pretty... even in tears.  It's Kelly.  (We see
	her only in LONG SHOT -- a distant figure in bright green
	jacket that makes her stand out from the crowd.)

				STU
		It's her!  She's not calling me. 
		She's over there.

				VOICE
		Is she?

				STU
		The blonde girl in the green
		jacket.

				VOICE
		Can't miss her.  Very attractive,
		isn't she?

				STU
		She must've heard all the commotion
		and come downstairs.

	The cellular is still ringing.

				STU
		It's somebody else who knows my
		cell number.
			(beat)
		It's you!

				VOICE
		You continue to impress.

				STU
		Why is it so important that they
		kill me?

				VOICE
		Because that's how I win.

				STU
		This time you won't.  If you want
		me dead, you'll have to do it
		yourself.

				VOICE
		Either way I can't lose.

				STU
		It's all a game to you -- because
		you're incapable of feelings. 
		You're not even human.

				VOICE
		I pride myself on that.  What's so
		great about being human?  It's the
		lowest form of life on this planet
		and I've taken it upon myself to
		thin the herd.

				STU
		I quit.  I'm not answering back any
		more.  I won't hang up but I'm not
		playing.

	There's silence now between them.

				VOICE
		Stu?  Stu, don't be that way. 
		You're taking the pleasure out of
		it.

	Stu doesn't take the bait.  He remains absolutely silent.

	A stalemate has been reached.

	WE RACK FOCUS ACROSS THE STREET TO THE POLICE

	clustered behind an emergency vehicle.  The Sergeant brings a
	civilian to meet Captain Ramey of the SWAT unit.  The
	newcomer wears coveralls stenciled "AT&T."  (Although they
	are very far away, we hear their voices close up as they come
	into sharper focus.)

				SERGEANT
		This here's Helfand, of New York
		Telephone.

				HELFAND
		Glad to help out.

				RAMEY
		Have you got the number of that
		booth?

				HELFAND
		Sure do.

				RAMEY
		Can you tap into that call?

				HELFAND
		It can be done.

				SERGEANT
		But not without a warrant.  You
		could be violating this psycho's
		civil rights.  Especially if he's
		on the line with his fucking
		psychiatrist.

				RAMEY
		Shit.  I don't want to blow this on
		a technicality.  Tracing the call
		isn't any violation, is it?

				SERGEANT
		As long as we don't listen in.

	We remain in LONG SHOT of the POLICE as they continue in
	heated conversation.

				RAMEY
			(to Helfand)
		Okay, we've got to know who he's
		talking to and their current
		location.

				HELFAND
		That I can handle.  As long as they
		keep the circuit open.

				RAMEY
		I need the number and an address to
		go with it.

	Helfand rushes off.  At the corner, we can glimpse him
	entering a phone company utility truck parked on Forty-Fifth
	Street.

	RACK FOCUS BACK TO PHONE BOOTH

	Stu remains tight lipped and silent, refusing to give his
	tormentor the conversation he so craves.

				VOICE
		Stuart, my friend.  Do you want to
		see how close I can come without
		actually hitting you?

	Stu resists pleading because he knows his silence is more
	powerful.

	There's no glass in the left side of the booth since the late
	Leon smashed it all out.

	Nothing to shatter when the sniper squeezes off his shot.

				VOICE
		May I call attention to the yellow
		pages?

	The frayed yellow phonebook dangling from a chain under the
	telephone shudders under the impact of a direct hit.

	There's been no sound of a gunshot, but the damage is there
	to behold.

	Stu reaches for the phonebook.

	There's a bullet hole straight through it.  Pieces of the .30
	calibre slug have shattered into many tiny fragments and are
	imbedded between the pages, half-way through the thick
	volume.

	Stu pries pieces out of the pages of the directory.  He looks
	at them in the palm of his hand.

				VOICE
		Hollow points are designed to break
		up on impact.  It would've behaved
		differently if it had pierced your
		soft flesh.  The pieces would've
		bounced around looking for a way
		out.  That's where the real damage
		occurs -- finding an exit --
		deflecting off all that bone...

	Stu wants to shout "STOP," but restrains himself.  Not
	talking gives him some degree of power.

				VOICE
		Still the silent treatment?  My
		father used to dish that out when
		he chose to punish me.  Not a word
		spoken -- one time for over a
		month.  I'd try and goad him to
		acknowledge I existed, but he
		stared right through me.  You're
		bringing back unhappy childhood,
		Stu.  That's not wise.

	Stu still declines to answer.  His silence seems his only
	weapon.  He tosses the bullet fragments out of the booth onto
	the pavement.

				VOICE
		Since you're ignoring me, I'll
		focus on someone else.
			(a beat)
		There she is -- nice and sharp.  I
		can see the two little punctures in
		each earlobe and my God, what kind
		of a girl would have her nostril
		pierced?

	Stu realizes the sniper now has Kelly in his sights.

				STU
		No!

				VOICE
		What was that?  Louder, Stu.  We
		must have a bad connection.

				STU
		Leave her out of it.

				VOICE
		I didn't expect her to show up
		here.  But since she has -- I'll
		improvise.

				STU
		Don't.  Please don't.  I'm sorry. 
		I'm talking to you again.  I'll
		talk all you want!

				VOICE
		It's a bad dye job.  The black
		roots are growing in and it makes
		her look cheap.

				STU
		I've screwed up her life enough
		already.  Please don't hurt her.

				VOICE
		I don't necessarily have to kill
		her.  I could be persuaded to
		settle for a reasonable mutilation.
		Which part of her displeases you
		most?  If she turns a bit more in
		profile, I'm accurate enough to
		remove the tip of her unpleasantly
		protruding nose.  It's just
		cartilage.  Any decent cosmetic
		surgeon will have her looking
		better than ever.

	STU'S POV - FOCUS SHIFTS TO KELLY

	in the crowd.  Distant yet distinct amongst the curious
	onlookers.

	JUMP CUT

	CLOSER ON KELLY -- OBLIVIOUS TO HER DANGER.

	AS SEEN THROUGH CROSS HAIRS OF TELESCOPIC SIGHT

	following her as she forces her way through the crowd toward
	the police officers.

	Her face virtually fills the screen.

	PRODUCTION NOTE: The only time we deviate from Stu and his
	POV is when we see the sniper's own POV through his
	telescopic sight.

				VOICE
		You can see her talking to the
		police now.  She's identifying
		herself as your wife.  They're very
		interested in who you are.  They're
		taking her over to see the officer
		in charge.  What was his name?

	SNIPER'S POV

	Through the cross hairs of the sniperscope, we can see Kelly
	conversing with Captain Ramey.  She's in a state of complete
	agitation.

	ANGLE ON STU

	half leaning out of the booth, staring at his wife and the
	cops in the distance.

	RACK FOCUS TO THEM --

	and suddenly we can hear them clearly in spite of the
	distance.

				KELLY
		What do you mean psychiatrist?  He
		doesn't see any psychiatrist.

				RAMEY
		Then who'd your husband be talking
		to?

				KELLY
		There was some guy that called the
		house this morning and said weird
		stuff to me.

				RAMEY
		Stu seems to be checking things out
		with this person.

				KELLY
		He hasn't got many friends -- I can
		tell you that.

				RAMEY
		Remain here, please.  We may need
		you later.

				KELLY
		You won't hurt him?

				RAMEY
		We'll do our best not to.

	Kelly is left alone as the Captain returns to their command
	center.

	Kelly is once again a solitary target.  She could be picked
	off without attracting undue attention.

				VOICE
		She won't even feel it when it
		happens.

	BACK TO PHONE BOOTH

				STU
		Take me instead.

				VOICE
		Don't distract me.  Now's the time
		to be absolutely still.  I have to
		hold my breath as I squeeze
		gently --

				STU
		No!  I'm hanging up.  That's it.

	Stu hangs up the receiver.  He disconnects.

	RACK FOCUS TO LONG SHOT --

	The police as they react.  We see a flurry of activity across
	the street.  Voices become clear as focus shifts.

				RAMEY
		Shit.  He hung up.

				SERGEANT
		Maybe they already traced it. 
		Anyhow, it doesn't matter.  Looks
		like he's coming out.

	RACK FOCUS BACK TO STU --

	slowly stepping out of the booth.  His hands are raised.

				STU
			(shouts)
		I've giving myself up.  Take me!

				SWAT OFFICER
			(distant)
		First the gun.  We want to see you
		toss away your weapon!

				STU
		Shit.  I can't.

				SWAT OFFICER
			(distant)
		Freeze where you are!  Turn around
		and keep those hands clasped.
			(signals the others)
		Take him.

	The SWAT OFFICERS in protective gear now step out of cover
	and fan out as they approach the booth.

	TIGHTER ON STU

	He's just outside the booth -- expecting to feel the sniper's
	bullet go through him at any moment.

	Then the pay phone starts ringing.

	The sniper is calling back.

	RACK FOCUS AGAIN

	to the police.

	All the cops react.  Particularly the Captain and the
	Sergeant.  Their voices seem close up when they sharpen in
	focus.

				SERGEANT
		What is going on with these fucking
		phone calls?

				RAMEY
			(shouts)
		Hold your fire.  Let him answer it.

	The SWAT team backs up but maintain their aim.

				SERGEANT
		Are you nuts?

				RAMEY
		Let them talk.  He's not going
		anywhere.
			(shouts)
		He's going back inside the booth.

	Indeed we see Stu re-enter the battered phone booth and pick
	up the receiver.

	FOCUS RETURNS TO STU

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		Yeah?

	A strange voice begins chattering away in Spanish.  Totally
	unintelligible to Stu.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		You got the wrong number.  Hang up.

	The voice, probably a Puerto Rican gentleman, rattles on in
	Spanish.

				STU
		Wrong number.  Wrong number.

	Then the voice on the phone suddenly alters the Hispanic
	accent.  It is the now familiar tone of his tormentor.

				VOICE
		Aw, relax, Stu.  Only yanking your
		chain.  Now can we start over?

				STU
		Those cops won't wait much longer.

				VOICE
		What else can they do?  They can't
		afford to just shoot you like I
		can.  Not with so much media
		coverage.  Not unless you make some
		stupid aggressive move.
			(beat)
		The ABC Mobile Unit just rolled up.

	Across the street, Stu can see various TV units from local
	stations setting up cameras on roofs of trucks.

				STU
		Will you look at that?  I must be
		going out over the network.  Bet
		they're pre-empting usual
		programming.

				VOICE
		And just think -- if you survive
		this, your trial will be televised. 
		And you can try and make the world
		believe I ever existed.  I'd be
		your only defense.

				STU
		How are they gonna prove that I
		killed anybody when there's no gun?

				VOICE
		They'll plant one.  The police
		aren't above that -- when they're
		desperate to convict.

				STU
		No, sir.  No gun and I walk.

				VOICE
		Don't you think I took that into
		account?  Am I a fool?

				STU
		What do you mean?

				VOICE
		Haven't I considered every
		eventuality?  I knew they'd come
		and cordon off the block.
			(beat)
		And that there'd have to be a gun
		someplace.

				STU
		Where?

				VOICE
		It's a small booth, Stu.  Have you
		checked every inch of it?

				STU
			(looking up and down)
		It's not on the floor.

				VOICE
		Then what's left?

				STU
		Up above.

				VOICE
		Could be.  Why don't you reach up
		there and lift the plastic sheet --
		and feel around.

				STU
		If they see me reach for something,
		they could open fire.

				VOICE
		They could.  But you have to know
		if it's there.  Don't you?

				STU
		I totally don't give a shit.

				VOICE
		In a narrow space, tucked just to
		the left of the fluorescent bulb. 
		You can almost see it outlined if
		you look closely.

	Stu peers upward at the clouded plastic, now stained and
	dirty.  There are shadows of objects above in the shallows
	area around the light fixture that automatically goes on when
	the door to the phone booth is tightly closed.

	Stu opens and closes the door a few times, watching the light
	click on -- watching the shadows around the light.

	Could that be an accumulation of dirt, dust, or dead insects? 
	Or could something be stashed up there?

				STU
		It doesn't matter.  I know about
		ballistics.  The slug in that dead
		guy came from your rifle, not any
		handgun.

				VOICE
		You saw how hollow points splinter
		on impact.  There's nothing much
		for ballistics to match to.  The
		same make .30 calibre bullets are
		in that handgun.  The prosecution
		rests.

				STU
		There's no gun up there.  I don't
		see a damn thing.

				VOICE
		Slide your finger up under the
		plastic and you'll feel the cold
		metal surface.  There are four
		rounds left in it.  Should you
		decide to shoot your way out.

				STU
		I could never shoot anybody.

				VOICE
		You could shoot me, Stu.  You'd do
		that in a minute if you could.

				STU
		And I'd fucking love it!

				VOICE
		Now you're speaking from the heart. 
		Come on, just lift the partition a
		few inches and feel what's there
		for you.

				STU
		I'm not getting my fingerprints on
		your fucking weapon.  What about
		powder residue?  How are they going
		to explain that to a jury?

				VOICE
		Do you think that'll matter with so
		many eye witnesses?
			(beat)
		Do it... or should I re-focus my
		attention on Kelly?

				STU
		No.

				VOICE
		You carefully distracted me from
		her before and I let you get away
		with it.  But if you're not going
		to play fairly --
			(a pause)
		There she is again.  So close I
		feel like I could touch her.

				STU
		Get off her!

				VOICE
		Then mind me when I speak.

				STU
		Look!  I'm reaching up with my left
		hand.  I'm pushing against the
		partition.  It's giving.  I'm
		feeling around with my fingertips. 
		It's filthy up there.

	TIGHT SHOT - STU'S FINGERS

	feel about inside the shallow space.  The shriveled remains
	of dead flies -- a layer of dust -- and then a .30 handgun.

				STU
		I'm -- touching something.

				VOICE
		One of the finest handguns
		Remington makes.  Lightweight,
		efficient and highly accurate.

				STU
		I'm not picking it up.

				VOICE
		Not right now.  But eventually...

	Stu lowers his hand, still empty.

				STU
		I wouldn't have a chance.

				VOICE
		I never said you would.

				STU
		I'm not insane.

				VOICE
		But you're getting there.  It
		wouldn't take much.

				STU
		That won't happen.

				VOICE
		You could pull the gun down, shove
		it in your own mouth and jerk the
		trigger.  That's another option.

				STU
		Why would I do that?

				VOICE
		To please me.  And ensure that
		nothing happens to Kelly.  I don't
		necessarily have to deal with her
		today in the midst of a crowd of
		cops.  I can take her out any time
		I like.  When she goes to pull down
		her blinds at night or when she
		walks the dog first thing in the
		morning.  What is it -- a Jack
		Russell?

				STU
		Okay.  I know you can do it.  But
		don't talk about that.  Please.

				VOICE
		I'd rather see you remembered as
		the gallant gunman who tried to
		shoot his way past an army of
		police -- than as a coward who
		sucked the barrel.  I'm doing your
		PR for you.  Creating a final image
		that'll endure.  The outraged New
		Yorker who was pushed too far. 
		When some lowlife street person
		tries to invade his territory, he
		retaliated.  And when the forces of
		the law closed in, he was
		defiant... to the end.

				STU
		Like that nerdy sonofabitch who
		blew those three wiseass kids away
		on the subway?

				VOICE
		Exactly.  Nobody minded that he was
		a sicko.  He was living out a New
		Yorker's pet fantasy.  Can you
		remember that movie where Peter
		Finch started screaming 'I'm not
		taking it anymore!'  And everybody
		picked up on it.

				STU
		'I'm mad as hell and I'm not taking
		it anymore.'

				VOICE
		That was it.  Poor Finch got
		himself an Oscar for that.  But he
		was dead by then.  I mean he really
		died.  Maybe playing that part took
		too much out of him.

				STU
			(softly to himself)
		'I'm not taking it anymore.'  'I'm
		not taking it anymore.'

				VOICE
		That's the way!  Psyche yourself
		up.  Everybody respects a man who
		fights back, even if he goes a
		little berserk in the process.

				STU
		Fighting back.  That's what it's
		about.

				VOICE
		Exactly!  We all understand the
		poor schmuck that gets laid off and
		comes back and shoots all his
		bosses.  We all thought of doing
		that.  But only he had the balls. 
		The terminally ill husband who gets
		his policy canceled and machine
		guns the insurance company offices. 
		Maybe somebody will finally get the
		message.  You can fuck human beings
		over only for so long before they
		come back at you.  I'm still
		holding on Kelly and she looks very
		concerned.  I could relieve all
		that anguish in a fraction of a
		second.  Shall I?

	Stu is hearing these words but thinking only of what the man
	on the line has done to him.  His turn has come to fight
	back.  He has an idea.

	If the sniper is focused on Kelly, he can't be watching Stu.

	Turning his back to the police, Stu slowly sinks to his
	knees.

				STU
		I'm on my knees begging you.

				VOICE
		Stand up, Stu.  You're embarrassing
		yourself.

	TIGHT ANGLE --

	Stu now down on his knees in the booth.  He's curled up
	almost into a fetal position.

	By doing so, he hopes to hide the fact that he's reaching
	into his pants pocket and pulling out his cellular phone.

	He half expects to hear a shot ring out either from the
	sniper or the cops.  But nothing happens.

				VOICE
		Stu -- I want you back on your feet
		facing me.  So you can see what I'm
		going to do to her.

	Stu ignores the command.  He's quickly dialing.

	911.

	He's calling police emergency.

	SNIPER'S POV

	Stu seen through the cross hairs of the sniperscope,
	crouched, doubled up at the foot of the booth.  But the cell
	phone is hidden in front of him.

				VOICE
		Be a man, Stuart.  Don't let them
		see you like this.  You're an
		embarrassment to me.

	WIDER SHOT - THE BOOTH

	with Stu still kneeling.

	RACK FOCUS

	to police across the street as their voices become clear --

				SERGEANT
			(listening to
			transmission)
		Officer on east side of the street
		reports subject removed a dark
		metallic object from his pocket. 
		We better move.

				RAMEY
		Hold all fire until you actually
		identify a weapon.  We're doing
		this on fucking TV!

	RACK FOCUS BACK TO -- STU IN THE BOOTH

	crouched forward.  The pay phone receiver dangles just above
	his head.  The cellular remains cupped in his hand.

	Stu never lifts the cell phone.  He keeps the palm of his
	hand over the speaker of the phone to muffle any sound from
	the other end.

	It rings and finally someone answers.

				EMERGENCY OPERATOR
			(faint)
		Police.  Is this an emergency? 
		Hello?  Is someone on the line?

	But Stu addresses himself loudly to the pay phone which he
	now grips in his other hand.  Hoping that his words will be
	picked up by the emergency operator listening via the
	cellular.  To help in this regard, he reaches back and slides
	the door to the booth tightly closed.

	He pretends to be talking to the sniper but his words are
	meant for the 911 operator to hear.

				STU
			(loud)
		You've made your point.  Who's
		going to believe I've got a sniper
		with a telescopic sight holding me
		in a fucking phone booth at 45th
		and 8th?

				VOICE
		It took you a while to believe it
		yourself.

				STU
		If you'd put a bullet in that
		Captain Ramey, it would've been a
		different story -- but you were too
		wise to do that.

				VOICE
		Why don't you do it for me?  Wave
		the old captain back over and get
		him nice and close and then use the
		handgun on him.

				STU
			(talking loud)
		Why me?  You could pick off any of
		those cops from your window up
		there.  Like you did that pimp. 
		And that tourist last week.  But
		this time you want me to do your
		killing for you.

				VOICE
		And you will!  To save Kelly.

	EXTREME TIGHT SHOT - CELL PHONE

	cupped in Stu's hand and held low.  Can they hear him on the
	other end?

				EMERGENCY OPERATOR
			(muffled, almost
			inaudible)
		Can you speak up, sir?  What is
		your name?

	Stu is concerned that the sniper might hear the voice of the
	emergency operator.  He sets the cell phone down flat on the
	floor of the booth facing upward.  He puts his foot over the
	receiving end to muffle the incoming voice.  Then he stands
	up.

				VOICE
		That's better, Stu.  Now turn
		around so I can see you.

	Stu talks close into the pay phone receiver now.  But keeps
	his voice raised.

				STU
		This booth.  It's my whole world --
		shrunk down to four feet by three
		feet.  Not much bigger than the
		size of a coffin.

				VOICE
		They can put handles on the booth
		and bury you in it.

				STU
			(loudly into pay phone)
		When I saw you put that bullet into
		that black dude, I knew you'd never
		let me out of this phone booth
		alive.

				VOICE
		You're wasting my time.  Reach up
		and take the gun.

				STU
			(peering upward,
			squinting)
		Let me see you first.  What harm
		can that do you?  You're in one of
		those windows.  I've got to know
		which one.

				VOICE
		No need for that.

				STU
		Being so far, I could never
		identify you.  I don't even want
		to.

				VOICE
		What is it then?

				STU
		Don't worry that I'd try to point
		you out.  You'd shut me up with one
		of your .30 calibre hollow points
		before I could even raise a finger.

				VOICE
		Why does it matter so much?

				STU
		I want to see that you exist.  Like
		God exists.  It's not enough to
		believe.  You want to see him --
		just once -- even at a distance.

				VOICE
		And then you'd take the gun down. 
		And use it.  We have a deal on
		that?

				STU
		Show yourself to me and I'll take
		the gun down.  I swear.

	There's a pause as the sniper mulls it over.

				VOICE
		I don't have to make deals.  And
		you're irritating me by trying to
		negotiate.  God doesn't have to
		prove anything.  He just strikes
		you down when he gets in the mood.

				STU
		Stop!  I won't ask to see you
		anymore.

				VOICE
		I'm glad that's settled.  But look
		who else has showed up?

				STU
		Who?

				VOICE
		I guess she saw the coverage on TV
		and just couldn't keep away.

				STU
		What are you talking about?

				VOICE
		The 'hotel' just arrived.  And a
		very beautiful little hotel she is. 
		Actually, I'd classify her as more
		of a motel.

				STU
		Mavis?  I don't see her.

				VOICE
		She's too far back behind the
		police line.  But I've got a fine
		shot at her from up here.

				STU
		You don't even know what she looks
		like.

				VOICE
		You're in an enviable position now,
		Stu.  You get to choose between
		them.  Tell me which one.

				STU
		I can't.

				VOICE
		Which will it be?  Kelly or Mavis? 
		Or should I simply select one?

	INSERT SHOT - THE CELL PHONE

	lying face up on the floor of the booth.  Is anybody
	listening?

	BACK TO STU

	Stu looks down at the cellular.  He has no way of knowing if
	the police operator can hear any of his words.

				STU
		I need time to think...

				VOICE
		You've got to be more in touch with
		your feelings.  You said you love
		Kelly.

				STU
		I do.

				VOICE
		Then I'm doing you a favor putting
		you out of the way of temptation.

				STU
		It wasn't Mavis' fault.  It was all
		my fault.

				VOICE
		Then take the third option.  Reach
		above you and pick up the gun.

				STU
		You'll leave them both alone?

				VOICE
		There won't be much point in
		harming them without you around to
		impress.

				STU
		I'll do it.

				VOICE
		Let me see you do it.

				STU
		I need one minute.  One last
		minute, please.  Can you give me
		that?

				VOICE
		Don't tell me you're going to say
		your prayers?

				STU
		Something like that.

	WE RACK FOCUS AWAY TO LONG SHOT - THE POLICE

	assembled on the opposite side of the street.

				RAMEY
		They should've traced the fucking
		call by now.

				SERGEANT
			(listening on transmitter)
		There's something else coming in. 
		A 911 operator says your name was
		mentioned by somebody that's still
		on the line.  Somebody talking
		about a phone booth.  And a sniper.

				RAMEY
		Patch me through.  Hello, this is
		Captain Edward Ramey.  What about
		that call?

				EMERGENCY OPERATOR
		The line is still open.  It's
		originating from a booth at 45th
		and 8th.

				RAMEY
		We're there!  Can you play me back
		your recording of the entire call?

				EMERGENCY OPERATOR
		I can't replay the tape while it's
		still running.

				RAMEY
		Then switch to another machine and
		play back what you've got.

				EMERGENCY OPERATOR
		It's awful faint.  He's not talking
		directly into the receiver.

	Ramey begins to listen.  We hear snatches of Stu's call
	picking up words which are at times incomprehensible.

				STU'S VOICE
			(faint)
		'Who's going to believe I've got a
		sniper with a telescopic sight
		holding me in some fucking phone
		booth...'

	The uniformed TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN now joins Ramey and the
	Sergeant.

				TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN
		Got what you wanted.  The call's
		coming from up the street.  The
		Hotel Broadway.

				RAMEY
		Have you got the room?

				TELEPHONE TECHNICIAN
		It's not that easy.  Electronic
		switchboard.

				RAMEY
			(to Sergeant)
		Move your SWAT units to the hotel. 
		No... wait.  Any movement will
		alert the sniper.  If he sees any
		of us withdraw, he may panic.

				SERGEANT
		There's another SWAT unit on the
		way.

				RAMEY
		Intercept them.  Divert them to the
		hotel.

				SERGEANT
		It's done.

				RAMEY
		Send them in from the Forty-third
		Street side.  I don't want any
		activity the sniper might catch
		sight of.  He's probably high up
		and facing that booth.  He's got to
		continue to believe our full
		attention is focused on the man
		inside -- whoever the hell that
		poor bastard is.
			(to emergency operator)
		Hello 911 operator, I missed some
		of that.  Run it halfway back and
		repeat it.

				STU'S VOICE (REPLAY)
			(faint)
		'... Like you did that pimp.  And
		that tourist last week.  But this
		time you want me to do the killing
		for you...'

				RAMEY
			(listening)
		Jesus... he's a dead man.

	BACK INSIDE PHONE BOOTH

				VOICE
		The police seem all excited about
		something, Stu.

				STU
		Are they?  I wasn't looking.

				VOICE
		I can't wait any longer.  Say amen,
		then reach up for the gun.  When
		your hand comes down, I want to see
		it.

				STU
		I'm too afraid.

				VOICE
		For once, be brave.  Surprise
		yourself.

				STU
		I'm shaking all over.

				VOICE
		Guys in combat situations even shit
		their pants.  But they follow
		orders.

				STU
		As soon as the cops see a gun,
		they'll open fire.

				VOICE
		Then I'd advise you to fire first.

	Stu's arm goes up in a supreme act of willpower.

	His fingers run along the two clouded plastic sheets that
	cover the roof of the booth.  It raises up easily at the
	middle where two sheets join.

	TIGHT INSERT SHOT

	The space between the roof of the booth and the sheets of
	clouded plastic.  We see the fluorescent lighting fixture
	covered with dust.  The solitary object -- a cruel-looking
	weapon.

	Now Stu's fingertips protrude into the small space.  He
	touches the gun, brushes back and forth, feeling the
	roughness of the grip.

	TIGHT SHOT - STU'S FACE

	as below he continues to hesitate -- it's agony --

	The sweat pours down his forehead and his eyes are squeezed
	tightly shut.  He can already imagine the police bullets
	tearing into him.

	A POLICE SNIPER IS MOVING INTO POSITION.

				POLICE SNIPER
			(into transmitter)
		Give me the word.

	RACK BACK TO STU - IN THE BOOTH

	His arm still raised.  He hasn't brought it down with the gun
	in it.  Not yet.  He holds the pay phone receiver jammed up
	against his mouth.

				VOICE
		Hard part's over.  Drop your arm
		and point it like you'd point your
		finger and squeeze.

				STU
		No.  You do it.  If you want me
		dead, then fucking murder me!

				VOICE
		Why must I keep invoking some poor
		girl's name every time we come to
		an impasse?  I'm focused back on
		Kelly again.  You're obviously not
		willing to trade your life for
		hers.

				STU
		I am!  I'm doing it!

	He pulls the handgun down into full view.  Curiously, the
	police do not open fire.

				STU
		There!  You see it?  They all see
		it.

	He waves the gun so nobody can miss it.

				STU
		Where are you?  Damn you!!

	He drops the receiver and steps halfway out of the booth.

	Still the cops do not open fire.

	Then Stu starts shooting.

	Not at the police, but at the high rise buildings across the
	street.

	At the thousands of windows that look down upon him.

	He gets off two shots before a solitary rifle shot rings out
	in response.

	RACK FOCUS TO THE POLICE SNIPER

	He has fired.

	ANGLE ON STU

	The remaining glass on the south side of the booth shatters. 
	Stu tumbles forward, sprawling out of the booth onto the
	pavement.

	RACK FOCUS TO KELLY

	She screams, tries to break through but cops restrain her.

	INT.  PHONE BOOTH

	ANGLE ON DANGLING RECEIVER

	as it sways back and forth.  From it, we hear the voice.

				VOICE
		Thanks for such an interesting
		afternoon.

	THEN THERE ARE OTHER SOUNDS EMANATING FROM THE DANGLING
	SWAYING PHONE.

	A wooden door being battered open.  A few incomprehensible
	shouts as a SWAT TEAM dashes in.  Stu's stalling for time has
	paid off.

	THE SOUND OF A BARRAGE OF GUNFIRE.

	THE SOUND OF A MUFFLED SCREAM.

	The police have broken in on Stu's tormentor and there has
	been a rapid exchange of shots.

	A HAND reaches into the booth and grabs the receiver.

	ANGLE WIDENS as Ramey places it to his ear.

				RAMEY
		Hello?  This is Captain Ramey. 
		Somebody talk to me.

				SWAT OFFICER'S VOICE
		Yeah.  We took him out, Captain. 
		Nobody else got hurt.

				RAMEY
		What's his condition?

				SWAT OFFICER'S VOICE
		Critical.  The sonofabitch took
		two.  Probably won't survive the
		ride.

				RAMEY
		Get a statement from him.  I'll be
		right over.

	He drops the receiver so that it dangles again.

	CAMERA FOLLOWS RAMEY to where Stu lies surrounded by cops and
	medics.  He's stunned, but very much alive.

				MEDIC
		Don't try to sit up.

				STU
		What was that?

				RAMEY
			(kneeling)
		Rubber bullet.

				MEDIC
		You'll have one hell of a nasty
		welt.  Busted rib.  Maybe a
		permanent scar there.

				STU
		It couldn't hurt much more if you
		really shot me.

				RAMEY
		Somebody was going to and we
		thought it may as well be us.

				STU
		Did you get him?

				RAMEY
		Sure as hell did.  Thanks to you.

				STU
		Still alive?

				RAMEY
		Barely.

				MEDIC
		We'll be giving him a hypo for the
		pain.  It'll put him out for a
		while.

	Kelly is now brought over by a female cop.  She drops to her
	knees beside Stu and tries to embrace him.  The medics
	restrain her.

				STU
		It's okay.  I'm not really shot.

				KELLY
		I was so afraid.  I thought...

				STU
		I thought so, too.  But we're going
		to be alright.  Both of us.

				KELLY
		Remember how you swore up and down
		you'd get me on TV?  Well, you did. 
		I already got interviewed on Fox
		and Channel Eleven and they even
		want me on A.M. America tomorrow
		morning.

				STU
		Bet you didn't think I could
		deliver on that.

				MEDIC
		Will you please let go of him,
		Miss?

	A gurney is wheeled over from a police ambulance.  The medic
	is about to administer the hypo but Stu pushes him away.

				STU
		No.  No hypo.  I want to see him
		first.

	The medics are now ready to lift Stu onto the gurney and cart
	him off.  But Stu struggles against them.

				RAMEY
		Relax.  The guy's dying.

				STU
		That's why I've gotta talk to him. 
		Please!

				RAMEY
		We'll see.

				MEDIC
			(to Kelly)
		You can ride with him in the
		ambulance.

	The woman cop escorts Kelly to the waiting ambulance.

	Ramey meanwhile tries to resume contact with the SWAT team
	inside the hotel.

				RAMEY
		This is Ramey.  Over.  This is
		Ramey.  Ten-Four.

	There's nothing but static, mixed up feedback and multiple
	garbled voices on the other end of the line.

				RAMEY
		Shit.  Get everybody off this
		wavelength.

	He crosses back to the phone booth -- picks up the dangling
	receiver.

				RAMEY
		Hello.  Hello!  Pick up!  Yeah,
		it's Ramey again.  Can you hold the
		phone close enough so the perp can
		listen?

				COP'S VOICE
		He's not saying a word, Captain.

				RAMEY
		He's not about to talk to us. 
		Maybe to him.

	Ramey looks back to where the medics are still trying to lift
	Stu onto the gurney.

				RAMEY
		Forget that.  Stand him up.
			(to Stu)
		Can you stand?

				STU
		I can try.

				RAMEY
		Help him over here.

	The medics support Stu and inch him back to the booth.  It's
	painful, but Stu ignores it.

	Ramey holds the phone up so Stu can both listen and speak.

				RAMEY
		Here.  Speak up.

				STU
			(into pay phone)
		It's me.  Do you hear me?  Answer
		me.

				VOICE
			(wheezing)
		Had to have the last word, Stu.

				STU
		I finally beat your ass.  Admit it,
		you fuck.

				VOICE
		But you'll never forget me.  I gave
		you the most thrilling day of your
		life.  Say thanks.

				STU
		Now you're gonna die, you bastard.

				VOICE
		I lost a lot of blood.  Don't you
		want to donate some for me?  Then
		we'd really be part of each other.

				STU
		Hang on.  I can't wait to see you
		at the hospital.  So I can yank
		your fucking air tube out.

				VOICE
		Wish I could give you that
		pleasure.  You deserve it.
			(coughing)
		... Only I'm out of time.

				STU
		What's your name?  At least tell me
		who you are.

	There's more violent coughing, then silence.  Then a cop's
	voice is heard.

				COP'S VOICE
		He's gone.

	Stu stares at the receiver.

				RAMEY
		Don't worry.  We'll find out who he
		is.  And why he picked you.

				STU
		No.  You won't.
			(a beat)
		What do you want to bet you won't?

	Stu reaches over and hangs up the receiver.  CLICK.

				STU
		I'll spend my whole life trying to
		figure that out.

	Then he sinks into the arms of the medics who lower him onto
	the waiting gurney.

	The hypo is finally administered.  It kicks in immediately,
	relieving the pain.

	He's wheeled away from the booth to the waiting ambulance. 
	Kelly is already inside waiting to accompany Stu to the
	hospital.

	STU'S POV - BEING WHEELED AWAY FROM THE EMPTY BOOTH

	pulling away in LOW ANGLE.

	CAMERA SLIDES BACK inside the ambulance with Stu.  The doors
	shut, obliterating our view of the phone booth that was his
	entire world until moments ago.

				STU
			(groggy)
		Gotta sleep now.  No phone calls...

	Kelly smiles down at him as the image blurs.  Stu passes out 
	-- into a deep sleep he much deserves.

	A SIREN BLARES.

	CUT TO BLACK.